Growing Up
by IneptatNormal
Summary: A harrowing story depicting the unusual circumstances in which a Pokemon trainer has to grow up in. Deconstructs the general euphoria prevalent on many fics, but maintains the hopeful spirit of Pokemon that unites us all. Hits stride around Chapter Four.
1. Prolouge

Prologue

The rich, green scenery passed beside us in a blur as we sped forward in our dusty old Ford truck. I remembered playing in those woods, building a clubhouse, and watching the wild Pikachus shock the apples out of trees, and now it was slowly disappearing behind me. For, probably, an entire year. An odd, sentimental feeling welled up inside me.

Dad was extremely proud that I decided to become a Pokemon trainer. When I didn't decide to do it at ten or any of the three subsequent three years, it worried him. For, you see, Dad saw Pokemon training as some sort of ritual that would help one mature and become a man. He trained, his father trained, and so on. It was only natural that I carried the tradition on.

So I decided I would. It sounded like fun, at any rate. Who knows, maybe I'd get lucky and be sort of decent at it? That's what we were going to now: a Pokemon League training camp that anyone who wanted a training license had to go to for two months. It was basically free (although it cost the public as a whole: sort of like public school), lodging was provided, and according to the brochure, it was _a delightful social experience where young adults can learn how to become a top-notch Pokemon trainer at their own pace_.

I sort of laughed when I read that. Really, I had no clue what I was getting myself into. Sure, I knew all the basic stuff: types and their matchups, I had a general idea of what each move did and who could learn them, and I knew where all the Pokemon gyms were. But strategies? Real life battling in real time where I could get confused and order the completely wrong moves? Eventually these thoughts would start overwhelming me and I decide that I'll be a _complete failure_, but then I realize that there are probably loads other people just like me and this camp will hopefully teach me a thing or two. I daresay that I was a very good learner; that would give me a decent advantage, right?

"Son?" came a deep voice from beside me. I stopped staring blankly out the window to look at my grey-haired father who was gripping the steering wheel very tightly and staring intensely at the road.

"Yes, Dad?"

I watched his face turn into a grimace. "Son... if you don't want to become a trainer... you don't have to. It's your own decision."

Just for this, I suddenly wanted to hug my father. He had swallowed his pride just for me, to make me happy, because he loved me. Even if I had any doubts about training before, they would be erased now. "No dad, I want to."

His whole body relaxed instantaneously. He pulled me into a one-armed embrace and he spared a quick, loving glance before returning his focus to the road. The acid in his voice had disappeared and now it just seemed tear-choked. "Your mother would be proud of you, son."

As we pulled onto the highway, I disguised a sniffle with a cough. It didn't fool dad.

/

_Another Brick In the Wall_ played from the CD player, though it could hardly be heard over the ruckus the windows were making. Pink Floyd was the only band that I liked and Dad approved of.

We took an exit. Almost immediately, I could see where the building I would be staying at for the majority of the summer. And was it huge.

It looked like a towering hotel building; it had to be at least ten stories high. The outside looked silver, and there was a lot of glass. An occasional balcony stuck out of the side. It amazed me how high-end it looked (but then again, pretty much anything looked high-end compared to the shabby ranch house Dad and I lived in. One of the downsides of living out in the country, I suppose.)

However, the building itself was not the amazing part. Surrounding the building were several rectangular fields, mostly clay, but some were filled with water. At one, though it was quite some distance, I saw a brilliant red-orange flame shoot into the air from what looked liked a bright orange dragon. I'm pretty sure this was the first time I had ever seen a Charizard in real life. Yes, I would enjoy this.

We pulled into a very large parking lot, and though it took a few expletive from my father towards a minivan that he had nearly run into, ("I swear that damn thing just _appeared_ there!"), we did eventually find a parking spot. We got my things from the trunk, then walked into the lobby to register. The floor was hardwood, and there was a bit more glass than I would think appropriate for a building full of teenagers, but I tried to ignore this the best I could as I got my key to my room and Dad and I carried these things to my new room (on level four). We eventually got there, and after a bit of a struggle to open the door with my arms full of things, I got to see where I was staying for the next two months. It was very small, with a single bed pushed against the large window and a large full-body mirror.

"Nice place," Dad remarked sarcastically as he unceremoniously dropped all of my things onto the floor. He was right. But it was better than nothing. I'd hopefully not be spending a lot of time in here anyway. I pushed all my stuff under my bed, then turned to face my dad. Was it time to say goodbye already?

Blessedly, he was to the point. He pulled me into an overwhelming hug and said simply, "I love you son."

I hugged him back. "I love you too, Dad."

Next, he gave me a teary-eyed smile. "You're growing up. I'll miss you." He slapped a hundred-dollar bill into my hand and said, "Goodbye, son. I'll see you in two months.

With that, he was gone. Darn it, I should have said something. Something to express this unexplainable bittersweet feeling I got in my stomach when he said, "_You're growing up_." But never mind. That didn't matter now. It was time to be off, to begin my life as a Pokemon trainer, and to shed my old one.  
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	2. First Steps

Chapter One  
My New Life

I woke up in a sleepy stupor. I forgot where I was for a moment, and as I stared dully at my tiny room I wondered what Dad would make for breakfast. Hopefully his home fries, those were simply heaven on earth.

Then I blinked a few times, as if it cleared the fogginess in my head. Slowly but steadily, I began thinking rationally. No, I was not at home, I was at the training camp thing. I looked down at my watch and realized that I had probably missed breakfast if it was twelve o' clock. Oh well, I was still full from last night: the chicken noodle soup was amazing.

The previous day, I had taken a very brief tour of the building. I knew where the cafeteria was, the classroom area, and a few specific other places. However, for the majority of the time, I reviewed all the basic things I had knew with a book I had brought. I also got my schedule, which was full of fun things like Battling Strategies, Pokemon Recognition, Traveling Class, and everyone's favorite, Battling Class. These all started the next. For today, however, I was generally free to do as I please.

And I wanted to do something fun.

\

"Closed? What do you _mean_ closed?" I asked incredulously to a very suspicious librarian.

"I _mean_ that I wanted you to get _out_."

I snapped a copy of _The Näive Day-Care Man_ and slammed it on the table. Sure, I was in the library when it was closed, but it's not like I was doing anything bad. And there should really have been a sign up.

As I left the musty smell of books behind me, I wondered what I should do. Going back to my tiny room wasn't really an option. Back at home, when I was really bored, I'd go out into the forest, maybe swing on the tire swing, look up and watch the Pidgey fly above me...

Then suddenly it hit me. This was a Pokemon battling camp, right? So there was bound to be some people outside on the fields battling. I never really watched a Pokemon battle in real life before, unless you count the really lame ones my cousins used to have with a couple of Rattatta when they came over. Suddenly, I was excited, this would be _fun_. My pace began to quicken as I reached the lobby, and I broke into a run as I got outside into the June air and I saw a couple of people yelling commands at their Pokemon on one of the clay battlefields, and a number of spectators cheering when one blur crashed into the other.

I was there now. On one end, a girl, probably fourteen, the same age as me, with her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, was screaming at a red and yellow rooster Pokemon. A Combusken. On the other end stood a boy with sleek brown hair, probably older, ordering a three headed Magneton, who bobbed around in midair, trying to avoid its opponents furious kicks.

A loud crackling noise began. Before I could comprehend what it meant, the girl shrieked, "Jump out of the way, you stupid thing!" Suddenly, a streak of blue and yellow electricity jumped from the magnetic Pokemon and connected with the Combusken. The chicken Pokemon cried out a creepy, distressed cluck before it turned a completely scarlet body that got absorbed into a red and white sphere the girl was holding.

I had to turn away to figure out what was going on. OK. The Magneton used some electric move on the Combusken, and because it couldn't jump out of the way in time, it apparently got hurt enough that the girl would want to recall it into its Pokeball. Sure, I've got this.

The girl frowned. She stared at the Magneton, apparently judging its state (not very good, judging by the sparks that kept flowing out of one magnet and how it was leaning to one side. Or did the always do that?). Finally, she apparently chose a Pokemon, and threw its Pokeball out onto the field.

In a burst of white light, a small, blue, squirrel with a shell formed. A Squirtle. I wondered why she would send a water type out against an electric/steel type, but then I realized (with a bit of pride,) that water is one of the few types that steel isn't resistant to.

"Water Pulse, Squirtle," yelled the girl.

"Thunderbolt, Magneton," commanded the boy.

The crackling began again, but the Squirtle was faster. It opened its mouth wide, gurgled loudly, then blasted a jet of water three times, into each of its opponents three eyes. The Magneton, unable to see, shot a bunch of sparks just over Squirtle's head.

"Great, now go for a tail whip!"

"Thunderbolt, again!"

The Squirtle, with impressive agility, hopped into the and lashed out it's tail directly towards the middle eye. It made a large cracking sound, and the Magneton, taken back, floated backwards. Next it countered with A resounding thunderbolt, which was probably so powerful because the Magneton was angry Squirtle had frightened it. It hit the tiny turtle Pokemon dead in the shell, and sparks flew everywhere as it was blasted backwards.

The Squirtle and the Magneton looked to be on about equal grounds now: On the verge of fainting. The super effective attack had taken a lot out of the girl's Pokemon, and the boy's appeared to already have been weakened by the Combusten.

"Aqua Tail!"

"Give it one last go, Magneton!"

The crowd I was watching this with held their breath as the Squirtle jumped into the air for a second time and Magneton began crackling. Squirtle's tail began forming water droplets which accumulated fast into an appendedge that was much longer and thicker than the tail itself. I thought I could actually begin to see Magneton glowing a blue hue and start expelling the electricity from itself. When the Squirtle crashed into the Magneton like a vicous wave, however, it was clear who won.

The girl smiled smugly and the boy looked devastated as they both recalled their Pokemon. The crowd dissipated.

"You should have used Thundershock. It's faster and it would have done it."

I looked over to the girl. She appeared to be giving advice to her opponent.

The boy just nodded, then began to walk away. As he seemed to be going the same way I was, I caught up to him.

"Hi," I said, unsure what to say. I wasn't sure how upset he was that he loss.

He looked at me and said surprisingly brightly, "Hi. Did you enjoy watching our battle?"

Hell yeah, I did. That was way better than anything I had ever seen on TV. I could see every individual spark, feel the spray when Squirtle used a water attack. However, I settled for a, "Yeah, it was awesome."

"Thanks," he said, smiling. "I'm Trey, by the way."

"Jerwin," I said. "Hey, those aren't your Pokemon, are they? I thought it was illegal to catch them before you get your licence."

He laughed. "No, these aren't mine. That girl and I were arguing about battling, and it happened to be in front of the one of the Pokemon battling coached. He let us rent three each, so we could battle."

"Cool," I said.

"Oh, I've got to go," he said as we walked into the lobby. "See you. Hey, maybe we'll have some classes together."

"Yeah, maybe." I said, heading in the opposite direction, "See you."

Pretty cool. I was making friends here.

Supper that night was a tasty affair, consisting steak and mashed potatoes. Yeah, I could get used to this. It wasn't that different from Dad's food, really. Just more elaborate.

I was, however, disappointed how fast people were making 'cliques' here. It was only the second night I've had here, and there was already a definitive line between the people who were popular at their school and the others. I hoped being put in a new place with no one they know would at the very least slow this down, but I was wrong.

Trey sat with a bunch of people of people who looked like jocks or something. He waved to me and motioned for me to come there. I ignored him and sat at a table by myself. It's not that I had anything against popular people in general (after all, Trey seemed nice enough), but I really wasn't into being with a bunch of people.

That night, I quickly went over the sixteen types and made sure I remembered them, then went to bed early. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  
My alarm went off bright early, bright and early enough that I had an extra hour of spare time after I took a shower, brushed my teeth, and all that hygienic stuff. I used this time to study over the basic material yet again, and then check on my map to make sure I knew where I was going. Then, it was time to be off for my first class of the day. Battling class!

I headed out to the largest arena. Already there were a small group of people and a middle-aged man. Among was the blond-haired girl who had beaten Trey in the battle, who seemed to be wearing the same exact thing as yesterday. They all stood huddled over something- something, I noticed when I got closer, that was a short cart of Pokeballs. Five spheres were aligned in each row, each with a slip of tape that told the name of the Pokemon it contained.

In five minutes, when everyone had more-or-less arrived, the purple-haired middle aged man (who was wearing clothes _way_ to young for his age), stood on his tip-toes and said in a loud, peppy voice, "Hello, class! Welcome to Battling Class. Now, who can tell me the first thing you need to do when battling Pokemon?"

He said this all very very quickly, and the abrupt question threw off anyone who could keep up. Once it registered that I should, I slowly put my hand in the air. The teacher (he never told us his name!) threw back his tawdry hair, decisively pointed at me, and said, "Yes, you boy!"

I slowly and carefully put down my hand. "Uh, send out... your Pokemon?"

"No, dear boy, no! The first thing you should be sure you do when having a Pokemon battle is to have fun!"

The class laughed. I couldn't if it was because of the debonair way our teacher had responded or my insecure answer to his question. My quizzical look apparently showed, as the teacher pointed at me a second time and asked loudly, "What? Don't you know what fun is?" The students broke into another burst of laughter. "Come on up here, boy, come on up here."

Obediently, I walked through the crowd of students to the teacher, face reddening, to the hyperactive teacher. He put his hand on my shoulder, pressing down with way too much pressure. I noticed dryly that he rather stunk.

"What's your name?" he asked me through his teeth.

"Jerwin-Ryan Moser."

"Now, who would like to show Mr. Moser here what fun is? Who's ready for a battle?"

I felt my face grow a deeper shade of red. Almost all of the students' hands rose at our teacher's invitation, and some part of my braid noted how ironic it was that I was the only one who really didn't want to battle, and I was also the only one being forced to battle.

However, it was time for me to put on a new face. This is what I was going to be doing for the next year, right? Maybe it was lucky that I got chosen first. So, as an ashy haired kid was picked from the students, I smiled and shook his hand warmly.

"Now, everyone." said the teacher, silencing the class for what he was about to say and distinctly slowing down his voice to a more mature level. "The point of this class is not to teach you strategies to beat your opponent. The point of this class is not to teach you that water beats fire. The point of this class is for you to experiment on your own, to create your own strategies. To find out how fire beats water. And to find out the fun it is to be a Pokemon trainer."

A student coughed in the background as our teacher paused to let us absorb what he was saying. I think my first impression of him may have been a bit off.

"In the beginning, one match will be held at a time, at this arena.. As time passes, however, I will allow multiple matches to be held around here, in all of the different types of arenas. In your last week here, a voluntary tournament will be held to see who out of all of you are the best trainers."

He paused again. In a few moments, however, his voice had returned to normal and he turned to my opponent and I. "Now, you two. I want you to choose a Pokemon from..." he pointed to the top rack of the cart, "Up here. Go ahead."

My opponent (come _on_, the teacher never asked for _his_ name) and I exchanged a quick glance at each other before examining the top rack. He took a sphere very quickly, so quickly that I didn't get to see what he had taken. As I looked at the others, I idly wondered if he had done that purposely.

_Let's see_, I thought, examining each Pokeball throughly. _Piplup, Snorunt, Pikachu, or Sandshrew_. I remembered reading somewhere that water is the main offensive type in any team, and that alone almost made me choose Piplup, but some odd part of my brain convinced me that my opponent somehow predicted that I would think that, and would choose the grass type or whatever else was there. Then, another, more panicky part of my brain told me that of he _did_ choose a grass type, Piplup probably knew peck or something, being a penguin and all. Finally, I decided I wanted the Snorunt, but then I realized that I kept assuming my opponent chose a grass type which isn't all that likely, and really weren't ice types weak to like, everything? On my way down to pick up its Pokeball, my hand made a weird jerking motion, and I ended up holding the Pokeball to the right of it. A Pikachu. A bit too cliched, but I'll take it.

I walked to the side of the arena opposite to the ashy-haired kid. He smiled a bit at me while he tossed his Pokeball between his hands. As our teacher walked forward to the side of the arena to referee, I mentally prepared myself. Pokeball in hand? Good. Sleeves rolled up? Good. _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ theme song music playing in my head? Good, I was ready.

Our purple-haired teacher wasted no time in starting the match. "Trainers ready?"

I nodded unnecessarily, that wasn't really a question.

"On the count of three, you will send out your Pokemon. One."

No, I wasn't cut out for this. What was I thinking? Why didn't I run away or something when the teacher called me up?

"Two."

Across the field, the boy was tossing his Pokeball back and forth still. It seemed oddly menacing.

"Three."

I looked down at my arm, which was hanging limply at my side. Come on, move, go!

"THROW!"

In a very awkward, ungraceful motion, I swung my arm around in a motion that was similar to a Baseball pitch. My opponent's Pokeball had hit the ground a moment before mine. It exploded open and the bright light formed into a what looked like an small purple alien with a soldier hat.

In fact, I was so engrossed in watching in watching the Ralts emerge, I didn't even notice that my own Pokeball didn't open. I took the hysterical laughing of my peers to wake me from my senses, to the sharp, crippling emotion of humiliation. Somewhere, I think from the laughter of the crowd, I heard someone jeer, "You have to MAXIMIZE it first!"

Of course. You had to press the white, center button on the Pokeball to activate it to battling mode. Without doing so, the Pokemon would not come out. I could hit myself. Repeatedly. With a mace.

I made a starting motion to go forward, either to retrieve the Pokeball or to run away into some dark hidey-hole somewhere, I wasn't sure. However, my option were taken away from me when the alien popped into existence in front of me, holding my still-minimized Pokeball. I would have been surprised, maybe even frightened, but I couldn't. Really. I couldn't feel any emotion at all, oddly, and it was good.

Suddenly, I remembered about Ralts and their emotion-controlling powers. It obviously noticed how terribly stupid I was feeling, and come over to relieve me. I reached over to take the Pokeball from it (I suddenly wished I knew its gender, since calling it 'it' seemed so souless at the level of gratitude I felt towards it) and looked into its deep, bright blue eyes.

"Thank you," I muttered quietly when the sphere was in my hand. It nodded, ever so slightly, then a slight _whoosh_ could be heard as it teleported to the other side of the arena. It's mind-soothing effects still remained, despite the distance.

OK. I had a battle to win.


	3. Subdefectives

Chapter Two  
Subdefectives

A yellow, overlarge rodent formed from the now activated Poke ball. Electricity crackled from its vibrant red cheeks as it saw its opponent. The rat looked back at me, gave a quick "Pi-KA" to show that it recognized me as its trainer, then its eyes darted back to its opponent.

"Confusion, Ralts!" yelled the ashy-haired boy.

The Ralts put its tiny fingers to where I would imagine its temples to be and screwed up its prominent eyes. I back to Pikachu, and nothing seemed to be happening. I was puzzled.

That is, until it turned around. Pikachu's black, beetle-like eyes darted around, and it obviously had no control. The rodent stumbled around, getting dangerously close to falling flat on its face a couple times. Finally, in a moment that was more climatic than it had any right to be, Pikachu balanced precariously on the heels of its tiny feet as if on the tip of a knife, before falling it's back.

The psychic type slowly lowered its petite little hands. Pikachu, still lying in the pavement, seemed in no state to move, its eyes still darting around slowly in their sockets. C'mon, only one attack had been ordered!

"Calm Mind," issued my opponent.

Ralts closed its eyes for a moment, and if it didn't look serene before, it definitely did now. The little stress I had started to build after the battle had begun had just gotten washed away. Yes, Ralts attack was working.

Pikachu had slowly gotten up, stumbling.

"Double Team, Ralts!"

Pikachu's confusion before was nothing compared to the way it was now. The single, fragile-looking Ralts didn't seem too terrible before, but when it disappeared out of existence and reappeared as six, maybe seven illusionary copies and a eerie laugh emanating from nowhere in particular rung out across the arena, it seemed plain _frightening_. The rat looked around wildly, trying to find which one was real out of the fakers, before looking back at me. The dire look in its eyes had a clear message : _Do something_.

My brain began to whir. I probably looked really stupid to all of my classmates, just standing here while my opponent was already running a strategy. My mind blurted out the first thing it found (embarrassingly from the childish cartoon called _Ash Ketchum's Adventures_,) but judging by the Pikachu's incredulous look, it didn't yet know Iron Tail. So I yelled out something I knew Pikachu learned.

The crowd laughed when I ordered it. How pathetic was I? Thundershock? Really? I couldn't even believe it myself when I had blurted it out. But oh well, maybe it would do some good. The rodent, too desperate to argue, turned to a Ralts at random, rearranged the positive and negative ions in both of their body's (if the other one even _had_ a true body), and the air conducted only a weak thunderbolt to travel from Pikachu to the Ralts, negative to positive. A part of my mind gave it up, no, it wouldn't hit the right Ralts. We weren't going to win my first Pokemon battle.

Except that it did. The Ralts only let a small shriek escape, but it was apparently enough as the illusions slipped away. The Calm Mind had obviously protected against some of the damage, and obviously Thundershock wasn't that powerful of a move to begin with so not too much damage was done, but... _damn_. One out of seven odds, not to mention the off chance that it happened to give the Ralts just enough of a lapse of concentration as to fade the copies fade away.

While I was marveling at my luck, the ashy-haired guy was strategizing, as a good trainer always should be doing. I comforted myself with the fact that his mind was at least along somewhat along the same track as mine, seeing as the next phrase out of his mouth was, "Lucky Chant, Ralts! Don't let them phase you!"

I had to say something too, right? So while the Ralts stood there, muttering rhythmically to itself, I ordered, "Slam, Pikachu!" and tacked on as an afterthought, "You do learn that, right?"

The Pikachu shook it's head, and I almost resigned to another Thundershock before I noticed that it was in a disapproving manner rather than an answer. I felt myself blush, but not the emotion that caused it.

The rodent jumped into the air in a yellow blur towards its unsuspecting opponent- yes, this would be easy! - so as Pikachu came slamming down onto the pavement, the Ralts only a smidgen to the left, I was bewildered. Did it teleport? No, that wasn't legal unless the trainer commanded it. Unless the referee (my eyes glanced to the purple-haired teacher on the sidelines) wished otherwise.

But no, I realized, stunned. The Ralts was _lucky_. Just lucky. It didn't teleport, the referee wasn't cheating. Pikachu had missed, absolutely and irrevocably. No matter how much I wished otherwise.

But by the looks of it, the Ralts wasn't only lucky in the fact that Pikachu had missed, it had hurt and discombobulated itself in the process. When Pikachu seemed to have gotten itself, it fell flat back onto its back again.

"Magical Leaf, Ralts!"

The tiny, alien creature raised its arm, pointing it decisively towards Pikachu. A few moments of silence ensued, in which absolutely nothing happened. Although I was in no position to, I snickered. They're weren't any leaves around! Only grass! Nothing would happen.

Almost in response (and defiance) to my thoughts, behind the Ralts and my human opponent, many tiny blades of grass rose straight into the air, eerily erect. The rotated at a ninety degree angle so the were all pointed towards Pikachu. Suddenly, they all shot forward like a hundred tiny green bullets, slicing tiny cuts in the poor, misled rodent, who had just regained its balance.

Pikachu squealed in pain, red cheeks crackling with unused electricity, and the grass which had been held up by some mystical psychic force before now laid scattered across the arena. Before the Ralts could make it attack Pikachu again, I had to do something. At least hurt my opponent a little. "Pikachu, try a Thunder Wave!"

Pikachu had almost released the electricity without my command, so the most my opponent could articulate was a sputtered, "Ralts, tele-", obviously to no avail.

The blinding flash was something to be seen, uncannily like the Flash attacks I had seen on TV. Electricity jolted from Pikachu to the Ralts in one quick though distinct moment. I saw the alien stiffen up, and grinned crookedly. Finally, something was going my way.

That was what I thought, at least, until Pikachu also froze in place, as though paralyzed by his own attack.

_Synchronize_. How could I forget that? Ralts could pass on their status ailments to their opponents through their ability, Synchronize. There was just too many variables. I felt... felt overwhelmed.

That's when all of my emotions came crashing onto me like a tidal wave. Humiliation, at my complete inability to battle. Anger, at the crowd of peers who had been laughing for pretty much the entire battle. And... and I suddenly felt some bubble just sort of _pop_ inside me as the realization slammed into my face. I had been so busy talking up the thought of Pokemon training, figuring I'd be just as good as the others with a little studying, and underneath it all, trying to live up to my dad's expectations... and I never realized that no, this isn't what I wanted.

A red and white sphere fell to the ground, a few beads of sweat glinting off the sun.

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The rest of my day was spent in my room, sulking and contemplating. Was this an overreaction? Was I freaking out over nothing? I muffled, logical part of my brain told me that it was. I hated that part of my brain.

But as I laid there, it became clearer. _You were embarrassed because you were losing the battle miserably. It only seemed so terrible because the Ralts dumped all of the emotions onto you at one time after all that feeling of nothing. Which actually shows that you were doing better than you thought you were doing, because the Ralts obviously felt so weak that it felt it could no a longer afford to expense it's extra energy on keeping you sane._

I almost instantly rejected this little ramble immediately, despite its sense. But then all the parts of my mind began to speak up, saying things of the similar pep. _See, you aren't as bad as you thought, Jerwin. The other person was probably just really talented, Jerwin_. And the killer, _What would your dad say if he saw the way behaved today, Jerwin?_ I think I was having in emotional head rush. I felt sort of sick. But happier. And more hopeful. And, as I told myself, much more optimistic about Pokemon battling. I almost felt embarrassed for my push-overness.

I stood up and looked down at my watch, which told me that it was 6:37. Dinner had just started a bit. I could still make it if I hurrie-

I flopped back onto my bed. What was at dinner? (_Besides the chicken noodle soup_, I internally told my stomach, which had growled as an answer.) Kids. My age. Some of which had seen my teary escape from Battling Class. I couldn't face them. Heck, by now, the whole building probably knew. Despairing thoughts began to fog up the edges of my brain again.

But no. I hadn't been exactly _mocked_ in my old school, but I had been ignored. And if you think about it, how different can it be really? Besides, maybe I hadn't done the worst. Maybe someone after me had somehow done worse. I smiled weakly. I could do this. Sure.

So when I walked into the cafeteria, a confident grin on my face, I of course wasn't expecting laughter to break out. Or for some kid to yell out, "Hey! That's the kid who can't throw a Pokeball!" But then again, I thought wryly, I didn't know Lucky Chant.

I got a bowl of that really good soup, inhaling the scent deeply, and several other food items before attempting the impossible: finding a seat. It seemed as if every table I walked up to, hoping to take a seat, either laughed in my face or mysteriously gained a member and had no vacant seats left. Even Trey, whom I had waved at hopelessly, managed to dramatically knock a friend's spoon to the floor and take an absurdly long time to retrieve it, by which time I had given up. I couldn't really blame him, either. He had a reputation to upkeep.

But then, suddenly, I spotted the girl with the bushy blond hair in a ponytail that had beaten Trey in that battle at a otherwise completely empty table. Her face was noticeably close to her fork, as if she was smelling it. I approached her.

"H-Hey." I began. "Could I-"

But then she sat up, wound her arm up, and threw an orange at my face. "SHUT UP!" she screamed, before again placing her head in her silverware.

"So much for _that_," I muttered to myself, rubbing the juice out of my eye. I walked in the opposite direction, embarrassed and not seeing where I was going, until a dreamy, lofty voice hit my eardrums. I would have thought it was a Hoot-Hoot cooing if we weren't indoors and they weren't intelligible words.

"Hello," it said musicly, "You can sit here, if you'd like."

I turned around to find the source of the offer. Sitting at a red table, entirely by her lonesome, sat a blond haired girl with flat, red hair. Her face was soft and frighteningly pale, and her thin fragile body seemed very, very frail. She held a single red unbitten apple in her hand, and she was smiling, two dimples on her cheeks.

"S-Sure," I answered, taking a seat at the opposite side of the table and trying to keep my head low. My first immediate thought was that she was some sort of drugee, and I almost preferred standing up. But no, this girl was obviously kind, at least remotely. She offered me a seat when no one else would. Brownie points.

"So," she said shyly, obviously feeling introductions were in order, "I'm Windy Zipagan. What's your name."

She said it so quietly that I probably wouldn't have heard it if I wasn't paying acute attention. I answered slowly, "I'm Jerwin. Jerwin Moser." A part of me wanted to ramble on how my name wasn't technically Jerwin, it was Jerwin-Ryan, but then I decided that it didn't really matter. Hopefully I wouldn't have to talk to this girl for long

Windy tossed her hair over her shoulder, and I counted five colors different colors dyed in streaks down from her scalp. "I hear you can't throw a Pokeball."

A wave of humiliation pulsed through me. She continued, "Thanks. I was the subject of ridicule until you came around. Stoner, I think. I wasn't really listening." Was that supposed to make me feel better?

"Don't worry, they'll forget about you soon, I'm sure. Once it gets old and something else interesting happens, the gossip will be off you."

I looked up into her eyes, witch were surprisingly blue, not unlike the Ralts. "Thanks," I told her, truly appreciating it. Substance abuser or not, she seemed OK.

"Oh," she added in her soft voice, "Gabriel's father was the adult league champion last year. I can't really say because I wasn't there to watch the battle, but I wouldn't be surprised if he taught his son a thing or two before they departed."

I mused this over a spoonful of chicken broth. Gabriel must have been the person I battled. And me being supernaturally bad was only a part of my ridiculous loss.

I smiled. I liked this girl.

/

The next day passed without incident. None of the teachers seemed to have noticed that I had missed their classes the previous day, Battling Class wasn't nearly as painful as expected, and I suspected involvement from the purple haired teacher on both accounts. Windy sat with me at all three meals, and the few times she spoke she impressed me with an odd vocabulary and incredible observance of the people around her. Eventually, this day slipped into the next, and that day into another, until time was rushing by. I couldn't say I was enjoying myself as a whole, but the textbook classes were a breeze (even battling class had a certain charm now that I could just sit out of the battles and just take notes) and I was having a great generally nonverbal relationship with Windy which even led to a short study date in her compulsively messy room one Saturday. Much bigger than mine, I should add.

Three weeks had passed until I finally realized that I was no longer being made fun of. I noted this to Windy one day at lunch, and she answered with an extremely peculiar response.

"Do you think that Grace is OK?" she asked my beaming face, staring out into the crowd without any emotional indicator in her voice. My smile weakened. I didn't know a Grace. Should I know a Grace? She seemed to notice my puzzled look, though how she did so was beyond me because her eyes never changed their position, as she said, "You know, the girl over there." She pointed a small finger into the crowd, though it in a very vague direction. When I didn't answer, she blinked twice and looked at my incredously.

"She threw an orange at your face."

"Oh, her," I said. As I saw in my Battling Class, she was an incredibly skilled battler, and hadn't lost a match as far as I heard. One time I saw the purple-haired teacher ("Mr. Sedgewick" Windy had helpfully filled me in on one day) congratulate her on a good battle and advise her that if she had just used Quick Attack she probably could have won the entire battle with just her Scyther, she flat-out ignored him as far as I could see. I hadn't talked to her since se chucked the fruit at me, but I was pretty sure she still was inexplicably angry at me as her face had twisted to an angry frown when she saw me recently trying to take notes on one of her battles.

"Yeah," Windy said, snapping me out of my flashback, "I think we should go sit with her."

"Uh, uh, uh, no!" I sputtered. "Why?"

"She's been kind of mopey lately, and no one has sat with her at any meals. I don't think she has any friends here."

"No offense to your compassion or anything, but I really don't want to risk any more flying fruit projectiles to the head!" I said, not loudly, but emphasizing the whole sentence.

She shook her head. "Didn't you see the boys behind you? The were calling her names. The orange was meant for them."

OK, that fit. But I still didn't want to sit with her. There was something odd about how she dressed in brown cargo pants and a white t-shirt every day, something intimidating in her army boots, and something violent in the way she yelled at me (or the behind me) that honestly creeped me out. But then, slowly, it dawned on me that she probably felt the way I did before I met Windy, alone and separated and terribly embarrassed, except she had to deal with it longer than me. Nobody should feel that bad, feel so bad that they skip all their class and spend all day brooding in bed, even if they're going through some weird moody teenager phase. Windy was just wanting to spare the same comfort to her that she spared to me... and it slowly dawned on me that really, there was no reason _not_ to do so. Just because someone looked unapproachable doesn't mean they were. Look at Windy and her multicolored hair!

So I looked into Windy's eyes which were looking to meet mine, and nodded. We picked up our lunches and deserted our table, slowing approaching Grace's at a slow pace. Windy's slow pace, which she used to make odd, dance-like movements. As we arrived, Windy was the first to speak. I wasn't too sure of this; I might not be very tactful, but Windy's appearance destroyed any chance of diplomacy.

"Hello," she stated in an airy voice, "would you mind if we sat down?"

Grace looked up at us. I expected her be thrown off by such an odd couple, but she simply stared at us for a few moments, as if analyzing us, and answered anticlimactically, "Sure, go ahead."

We took our seats. Windy and I sat side by side, and I realized that this really was probably the closest to each other been. Grace resumed eating her salad and looked up directly towards me, noticing that I was staring at her as if she was a venomous snake. It was one of those awkward, O_o moments, and Windy caught on, as she said, "I'm Windy, and this is Jerwin. What's your name?"

Wait a second, we already knew her name. It suddenly struck me that Windy likely already knew my name when she asked me the same question. She was probably was just trying to ease me into conversation and make feel comfortable. Grace must have caught some change in my expression, as her answer was sounded suspicious.

"I'm... Ashley."

I could have laughed. What was she playing at? But Windy politely went along with it.

"It's nice to meet you, Ashley. I've seen you battle before; you're very excellent."

Her face relaxed. "Thank you. I've..." she paused, "seen you too."

Next, she turned to me. "I saw your battle. Was it your first? It seemed like it."

I gulped down a spoonful of lunch. "Yeah, it was. I sort of suck."

To my surprise, she smiled. "Don't worry about it. I was really terrible when I first started. It's all in the practice."

I thanked her. "It was really clever the way you used that Seel's Aurora Beam against that flamethrower to create water to use. I'll have to remember that."

"Go ahead," she said, "I've got loads more where that comes from."

There was a brief silence.

"My name is Grace."

\

As it tends to do, time went on. Windy and I continued to sit with Grace, and she was a natural icebreaker. When she wished it, we never had a shortage of conversation, and though it was almost always about battling, I enjoyed it nonetheless. Slowly, we began to spend time together outside of meals, usually in Grace's room (where the snacks were), and became an inseparable trio. Battling Class was made immensely more enjoyable with Grace, as she really was a good battler, and if possible, a better teacher. When we first paired up to battle, Mr. Sedgewick gave us a blatantly nervous look, but with Grace shouting advice across the arena, it was impossible not to become better at the sport. When I finally beat her Aipom after a couple weeks, both of my teachers were very proud, slapping me on my back and telling me how brilliantly I did. Conversely, I tutored her on critical hit ratios and individual values. By simply being in each other's presence, we seemed to become smarter.

"This looks like an interesting book. Could I borrow it?" I asked her one day while we were all studying in Grace's room, referring to a textbook titled _Choosing your Starter Pokemon_.

"Keep it," Grace answered gruffly, "I never read it and I already know which starter I'm getting."

"Really? Which?" asked Windy, who was standing in the corner and fiddling with a portable stereo ("I'm going to educate your taste in music," she said whimsically when first asked about it.)

"Fang. My Poochyena." she answered. She was upside down, leaning over the side of her bed and eating from a bag of chips.

Windy looked up. "Why? They aren't much use in competitive battling." Normally this was a very objectifying way to look at Pokemon, but whenever you tried to ask Grace about this viewpoint she would bite your head off about it.

"Some stupid Catholic tradition where you take your pets as your starter Pokemon. Bill and Penelope wouldn't let me go unless I followed it."

I looked to her over the book I had started skimming. Catholic? And did she just call her parents by their first names.

"What? My parents are obsessed with their stupid religion. It was a miracle that I could keep them from sending me to nun school."

Suddenly, music started blasting from Windy's corner. It was some weird classical mix that my father would refer to as 'junk'. And Grace, too. They seemed sort of alike.

"What about you, Jerwin? What do you think you'll get?" asked Windy curiously, having to call over the loud music she was trying to lower the volume of.

I hadn't really pondered this. I hadn't thought at all about my future team, really. Was I supposed to?

"One of the traditional starter Pokemon, I suppose. I'm not really sure." This was my first thought. They were powerful, and their patriotic-ness would please my father. However Grace looked at me as if my indecision had electrocuted her.

"Windy, what about you?" I asked quickly, trying to settle Grace's piercing glare.

However, what starter Pokemon Windy preferred I never got to find out. At that moment, a lady that I recognized as a dorm supervisor burst through the door. "Oh, hell," muttered Grace when the women saw me, a boy. She quickly shrieked at me to get 'OUT OUT OUT!' and scolded Windy for playing that 'hippie music' way too loud.

Not that it mattered. It's not like Grace wouldn't sneak me in again in a half hour, uttering profanities I had never heard of at the lady who had ousted me.

/

"Hey, come look at this," called Windy airily, holding a pink flyer on our third-to-last week at the training camp. Meeting my new friends seemed to be a distant memory at this point.

"What is it?" inquired Grace. "Oh." she said when she found it was a flyer announcing sign-ups for the tournament on the last week of school, when all classes were shut down for the event while the teachers grade them and determine our eligibility for our training licences.

"Well you're going to join, aren't you?" I asked Grace when I saw her slightly frowning face.

"I don't know." She seemed to be conflicting. "They record the battles and put them up on the Internet. I don't think I want my opponents in the league to see my battling style and strategies. It seems sort of counter-productive."

"Oh, come on, you have to. You'll cream them." I looked to Windy for support, but her eyes were closed and she seemed to be dancing to some unheard music.

Grace smiled at my compliment. "You know, you're right. Who really gives a damn anyway? I can go for the extra challenge."

We then continued to our next class, ready to study profusely for the exams.

\

The next week came with haste. I wasn't any more nervous for these tests then I was for any of the exams at school. I knew the material; I'd be fine.

However, it seemed I was one of the lucky ones. I couldn't count the number of people I heard insisting to their friends that they would fail, that they hadn't studied enough, and that they were stupid, stupid, stupid.

But when the test finally came around, I figured that I'd have to agree with them wholeheartedly if they failed these tests. I could have laughed when I read the first question (_Mia Fay has a Squirtle. She does not want it to evolve so that it learns Hydro Pump at an earlier level. What should Mia Fay do to prevent her Squirtle from evolving?_) I was sure that I had aced them all, and even done well on the practical exam in Battling Class. After I defeated his Mudkip in a skill-testing battle, Mr. Sedgewick told me heartily that I better be glad that I have Grace as a friend. I swear, all in all, that I probably could have done pretty decently on the test even without this whole training camp ordeal. Yet, as I looked at Grace freeze a Mudkip's Water Gun attack in midair and saw Windy write a three page essay on evolution of the Pokemon species, I was certainly happy I had.  
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\


	4. Friendly Competition

Chapter Three  
Friendly Competition

"Wooguru, Freefall attack, go!"

"Leafeon, please, Last Resort!"

At Grace's command, the massive red and white bird Pokemon swooped down and grabbed the poor, cut up grass Pokemon in its huge talons, then flew immediately back up into the air. The quadpedal, all but immobile in the Valor Pokemon's grip, could do little more than squirm and try to scratch its attacker's underbelly with its precious last reserves of strength, to no avail. Higher and higher the two went until their outlines were blurred and it was hard to distinguish between the two, until, slowly at first, they began descending, and becoming bigger, more recognizable shapes and colors. In a matter of moments, they were plummeting unsupported through the air, the Wooguru's wings tucked in to its sides, the Leafeon squealing frantically, its torn up leaves doing nothing to slow its rapid descent. Until...

_Crack_. The crowd stood, screaming and cheering, and it was hard to see the Leafeon's mangled, creepily distorted body lying still on the clay arena through all the testosterone. The large bird had opened its wings at just the right moment, and I caught a glimpse of it landing cleanly on the ground before turning scarlet and being sucked into the sphere the blond-haired girl was holding. The Leafeon was soon to follow, promptly absorbed into a Pokeball on the other side of the battlefield.

Instead of going to congratulate the winner, the crowd seemed to opt comforting the loser. However, Windy and I weren't exactly ones to follow the popular decision, so we somehow managed to plow our way through the crowd and down the bleachers.

"Brilliant, Grace!" Windy called when we finally began to approach her. She seemed to be giving her Pokeballs to Mr. Sedgewick, his purple hair distinct. I added, "3-0, as always!"

However, the joy of winning didn't satisfy her. Grace, of course, would be Grace.

"No, it wasn't. I didn't think he would use that Glaceon," she huffed, following it up with a quick sigh. "Eeveelution teams are so lame."

Maybe I was losing it, but didn't she just win? Even with a type disadvantage at one point, she still managed to defeat all three of her opponent's Pokemon with just one of hers. I voiced these thoughts to her.

"You don't understand the concept of battling at all, do you?" she snapped, surprising me, as we started back to the main building for lunch and to see the match ups for the battle the next day. "A good trainer should be able to predict the Pokemon their opponents will use in the battle. I didn't do that. If that Trey kid was actually a decent battler, then for all I know he could have creamed my Wooguru."

"For what? To face your Infernape?" I asked, looking to Windy for support. She seemed to become particularly interested in her fingernails.

Grace rubbed her temples. "That's not the point."

When I opened my mouth to argue, she shushed me. In a few minutes or so we approached the building. We got to the cafeteria soon enough, and it was pretty much empty so we weren't in a rush to get our food.

"So," Windy began, presumably to stop Grace and I from staring at each other, "We're about to get our exam results."

"Huh?" I whirled around so quickly that I almost spilt my chicken noodle soup (which I desperately needed to wean myself off of).

However, it was Grace who answered, with a slightly edgy tone in her voice. "Honestly, Jerwin, you're so oblivious. All of the teachers told us we were getting them today."

I almost dropped my spoon in excitement. It was about time! We were leaving in three days, darn it! I turned to the lunch lady, as if she was going to give me my results right there. She answered my over eager expression with one of her own. As I realized what I did and began to walk away, she waved excitedly, and I heard her say from behind me to one of her co-workers, "See? At least some people can appreciate decent chicken broth these days!"

We sat down at our usual table. As promised, an official-looking man walked over to me and asked in a monotone voice for my room key. I dug it out of my wallet excitedly and handed it to him, he examined it, and made a manilla envelope appear from somewhere within his blazer. I somehow managed to refrain myself from tearing it open with my teeth until Grace and Windy got theirs, and then I peeled it open and a simple white paper slid out.

I could have _shrieked_!

Honors! In everything but Battling Class! These classes counted in school, too, if you did decently, and, well, I certainly did decently! Before either Grace or Windy had the chance to thoroughly examine their papers, I shoved mine in front of their faces.

"Wow, um, good... job..?" said Grace.

"You did great, Jerwin." said Windy in a calm, even tone.

Grr. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't this. They should have been more excited, or something. Even Dad _acted_ excited, even if he wasn't. Then it slowly dawned on me, haha, I can't expect the same excitement from my friends that I did from Dad. Me being successful and going to college wasn't one of their life long goals.

They seemed to be puzzled by my I'm-having-an-epiphany face, so they handed me their results. I snapped out of- wait, what was I thinking about before this?- and read over the outcomes of their work, and wasn't surprised by what I saw. Grace got cum laude in the one class I didn't and did OK in everything else. Windy did well, but not too well, in all of her classes.

For the rest of lunch, Grace ranted on about mistakes she made in her battle, and what she should have done, and I really was sick of it, but Windy lent a patient ear, listening and providing lengthy responses that eventually grew longer that Grace's drones themself. Soon enough, the conversation grew to possible strategies for the next battle, and though it was beyond me how one could form strategies without first knowing what you were up against, Grace apparently found a long rambly way to do it. Soon, a monolouge was upon us.

Once my bowl was empty, trying to politely get away was next on the agenda, as this was getting dull. Unfortunately, my all-too-feeble attempts and lack of charisma only convinced her to talk with new pep, and I was subjected to ten more minutes of lecturing until an intercom I didn't even know existed came to my rescue. Mr. Sedgewick's voice boomed:

"Hello, everyone! Now that all the battles that needed to be won have been won, and the victors have proven themselves victorious, the judges and I were able to randomly generate the match-ups for the semi-finals! We've posted the results in the lobby; come take a look!"

In that moment, the entire cafeteria burst into loud chatter, stood up, and crowded the double doors, our group included. In fact, we literally held hands in hopes of not getting separated. Somehow, after a ridiculous endeavor to get within reading distance of a billboard, we saw the match-up.

Ryan Wallace Vs. Miles Edgeworth

On the East Clay Arena

Grace Wisteria Vs. Gabriel Wright

On the North Water Arena

When the tournament began, all challengers had to select five Pokemon from a large variety which would be put out for everyone to see. In the battle itself, the contenders could choose three from their five to fight with. The flyer next to the first told the Pokemon of each contender. I gave it a quick glance. It read:

Grace Wisteria's Roster:

Wooguru

Charizard

Starmie

Infernape

Ampharos

Grace had specifically told us why she chose each and every Pokemon, and that she left some weaknesses open to make it more interesting. This seemed oddly out of character to me, but she assured me she would do no such thing when fighting in the league. Next:

Gabriel Wright's Roster

Shedinja

Delcatty

Ditto

Sharpedo

Castform

"My god, he has such a gimmicky team. I wonder how the hell he made it this far," Grace breathed, beginning to strategize on the spot. "Since we're on the water field, he'll probably bring Sharpedo, especially to beat Starmie, so Ampharos is a must. Charizard's a bit risky but it's really the only thing that I'm sure can beat itself..."

And so it continued, with an intensity and a passionate glare that was hard to resist. But for my own mental well being, I thought it best not to go to Grace's room that night. Grace would win the next day, as she always did, and I could do without her logic that would take my ego down a level or two.

\

"Oh my _god_ Jerwin, I'm fine!" snapped my headstrong friend after I tried to offer her orange juice for the fiftieth time that morning. She had just secured her Pokeballs and was eager for a battle, but hadn't eaten anything since yesterday's lunch, so I was nervous.

Windy whispered in my ear, "I would leave her alone, Jerwin. She's probably very nervous and trying to think, and you aren't really helping."

I walked in a way that I hoped was inconspicuous a few steps away, giving the girl her distance, and muttered, "Thanks." Windy smiled, her dimples ever-prevalent. We were walking through a hallway to the nearest exit so that we could get to our arena. It was a bit early, but better safe then sorry.

"Hey girlie!" rang a voice from behind us. It resonated in the narrow hall.

We all turned around. It was two boys; one ashy haired (Gabriel, I remembered), and some extremely short boy with a baseball cap with the League symbol on backwards that I had no name for. It was the latter who had called our way, and apparently it was directed towards Grace.

Grace made no response, and kept walking. The boy persisted.

"Girlie, lookie here! I'm talking to you, see? That's what they call it when someone opens their mouth and words come out."

Grace rotated on the spot, her eyes burning with a ferocious intensity. I noticed that Windy had pressed herself against the wall in an effort to make herself as small as possible, and I joined her, as it seemed to be the best possible option given the situation.

"So, girlie, how long do you think you'll last against Gabe here? I'm taking bets, see? I say five, maybe ten seconds, but then again, I've been known to overestimate."

"Overestimate, huh?" growled Grace, akin to an Arcanine, "How tall do you tell all the girls on those dating websites you are? Six two?"

A few moments passed. The boy mused, "Dating sites, huh? You should be the one to speak. How many people have you dated?"

Grace said nothing. The boy continued in an effusive drawl, "I'm surprised they let you stay in the girl dorms, really. Since the entire point of dividing genders is to stop them from banging each other, lesbians should be put in with the boys," Then he turned to Gabriel, "Hey, then wouldn't the no-hitting rule towards girls be null?"

"Go AHEAD and try it!" roared Grace, pulling back her arm and taking long strides towards the boy. He opened up his mouth to make a remark, but didn't get to say anything. Grace's right hook hit him directly in the jaw, and he fell to the ground. She made an about-face and paced down the hallway towards the exit, by herself.

Windy and I glanced at each other. Dully, I wondered if I should be concerned for that short kid, but wow, I really didn't care. It was time to watch a Pokemon battle.

\

The crowd was eerily silent. It was down to the wire: semi-finals. The anticipation in the air was almost tangible, although it stayed nonverbal.

The sun hung high overhead, reflecting off the clear blue pool where everyone's eyes were directed. The waves lapped gently at the two medium sized platforms that bobbed in the middle of arena, welcoming any Pokemon that couldn't swim. On the right side stood a girl with her hair pulled back, hand clutching a Pokeball, eyes staring intently at her opponent. On the other end, a boy with ashy hair stood tossing his Pokeball between his hands, a bit of sweat glinting off his forehead due to the extreme August heat.

"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed a masculine voice from the speakers strategically placed around the bleachers, "Today we are gathered to witness a match between two extremely talented battlers. Both challengers have their own distinct battling style and logic behind their actions, proven by the fact that they have made it here, to the semi-finals. It's all or nothing, folks! Who will win? Who will lose?"

There was a pause. "There's only one way to find out. Trainers, ready your Pokeballs."

Neither boy nor girl took their eyes of each other. Their Pokeballs were already maximized.

"On the count of three, you will throw your Pokeballs into the arena. One. Two. Three. Throw!"

Simultaneously, the two threw out their Pokemon, screaming their commands at the same time.

"Starmie, Cosmic Power!"

"Castform, Hail!"

A gray, star shaped alien appeared spinning in the water, its center gem flashing a million different colors. Using jet propulsion, it soared under the water like a bird through air. It did a surprisingly quick lap around the pool, spinning all the way, before pointing its gem to the air and letting it absorb the sunlight.

However, its power source didn't last, or at least was hidden. A gray teru teru bozu hovered about two feet over the water, its cute eyes shut in concentration. Gray clouds, puffy ominous gray clouds appeared on the horizon, almost unnoticeable, but soon they spread across the entire sky. Suddenly, the moisture in the air was unexistant, and the tempature dropped as well. I looked to Windy for an explanation for the sudden turn in weather, to know why the clouds were whirling around in a foreboding dance, but she simply pointed up. I looked at the skies, searching for the answer I was missing when _plop_, a small piece of ice landed right on my face. I realized with amazement that I had just witnessed Castform's weather manipulating abilities first hand. I had never known in anything but theory that a small hailstorm could be whipped up in just a few moments.

Hail started to fall more quickly as I looked back down at the arena. Castform now seemed to be covered in a thick fog of some sort, dancing a few feet in the air, adorable face smiling cheerfully. Starmie's swimming had stopped; it now stood still in the water, obviously ready for another command. Luckily, Grace wasn't one to keep her Pokemon waiting.

"Bubblebeam, Starmie!" she commanded.

The star-shaped Pokemon rearranged its buoyancy via psychic power, floated to the top of water, and positioned itself directly underneath its opponent. Castform tried frantically to float out of the way, but the starfish was quicker. Out of all of its arms, a flurry of bubbles flew exactly upwards, obscuring both Pokemon from vision.

"Weather Ball, Castform!" yelled Gabriel, "Directly downwards!"

For a few moments, nothing seemed to happen, and bubbles were still shooting upwards. Then, suddenly, a resounding crack sounded throughout the battlefield. The bubbles slowly began to pop, and the sight was next to behold was actually mildly disturbing.

The Starmie floated gently above the water, bobbing gently back and forth, entirely encased in ice. It was obviously unable to move in the slightest. Above it floated the Castform, covered in bubbles and smiling gleefully like it was the funnest thing ever.

Grace's face looked distraught. "Starmie, Rapid Spin!"

Starmie had no reaction, and did nothing to show that it heard her. The Castform looked a bit concerned.

"C'mon Starmie, Recover, Swift! Do _something_!"

I looked over two Windy. She was shaking her head disapprovingly, muttering, "Wow. Two moves. Looks like she might've met her match."

Grace held out her Pokeball, and a red beam shot forward and sucked the Starmie away. She eyed her opponent carefully, with a new trace of suspicion in her eyes, and selected her next Pokeball from the three she was holding.

"Charizard, come on out!"

A mighty orange reptilian lizard appeared in a burst of white light on one of the floating platforms. It almost tipped it over immediately, and after coming very close to falling into the water, it let out a long, powerful roar and flew into the air using its broad wings.

"Heat Wave, Charizard!" Grace commanded. Gabriel was staying oddly quiet, but smiled fishily.

The Charizard, wincing a bit at the hail striked its bare back, began beating its wings particularly hard, especially towards Castform. Then it roared loudly, directly into the jet stream. At first I dimly wondered what the heck it was doing and why it wasn't following Grace's commands. Then, suddenly and creepily, the cute little Castform began screaming in pain and the water in the pool beneath began steaming. A few moments later, even with the distance I was from the arena, I could feel a fraction of the intense heat the Castform was being subjected to. Slowly, the Charizard's quick wing strokes became steady ones, not particularly directed anywhere, and respectively the Castform's shrieks lessened to sobs over its burn wounds.

Then, Gabriel made his move.

"Castform, Weather Ball again!"

The Castform, trying its best to ignore its pain, put on a weak smile and closed its eyes again as a small ball of what looked like fog appeared before it. It looked up to the Charizard and willed the tiny ball to fly up and pursue its opponent.

"Charizard, dodge it!"

Although the dragon had already began to swoop before Grace commanded it, the ball was stunningly quicker, and hit the Charizard's right wing, which was immediately covered in a thick coat of pure ice. The large lizard tried hard to remain airborne, but its desperate attempt was to no avail. The best it could do to avoid submerging itself was land precariously on one of the floating platforms. It rocked violently forward, backwards, right, left and then... it was stable. More or less.

"Charizard, Flamethrower attack, now!"

The orange beast looked carefully at its opponent to aim. It inhaled deeply, gathering all the oxygen it could muster, then exhaled an explosive tongue of flames. However, the already scorched Castform had been recalled by the time the flames would have reached its body.

"Great job, Castform, you did much better than anyone else expected," said Gabriel. "Sharpedo, you can do it!"

Just as a large, ferocious, and dinasouric shark Pokemon appeared snapping ferociously at some invisible antaganizer, the sun peeked through the suddenly dissipating clouds, shining especially on the arena. The hail left both Grace and Gabriel with specks of ice and water all over their clothes, and this made them sparkle somewhat humorously. "Vampires," said Windy with a weak smile, though I had no idea what she could have meant.

"Dragon Rage, Charizard!" commanded Grace, her face showing no sign of fear but her voice betraying a twinge of hysteria.

"Crunch the platform apart, Sharpedo!" Gabriel condemned.

The Charizard began inhaling deeply, but the Sharpedo was much quicker. It shot forward, flaunting bloodlust in every syllable, its dorsal fin the only thing above the water. In only moments, its gigantic mouth was biting apart the thick plastic platform Charizard floated on like it was rather large piece of butter.

Blue flames expelled quickly and inaccurately from the Charizard's mouth were shot into the air when the orange dragons right leg dipped into the water after losing its platform to stand on. It managed to fly, despite its frozen wing, very awkwardly over to the other platform. Its landing was even more ungraceful.

"Do it again," commanded Gabriel. His shark Pokemon had just finished tearing apart the platform to tiny bits, thus destroying its ability to keep anything afloat. It eyed the Charizard with its red eyes, then bulleted forward once more.

The Charizard tried desperately to take to the air, but its wing simply made this impossible, and when the shark mutilated the only thing keeping him dry, it had no where to go but down. The powerful beast roared loudly in pain, and billows of steam flew upwards. It had nothing to do, nowhere to go, and if it remained in the water long enough, well, the fire on its tail would...

Several agonizing seconds past while Grace stood there with a calculating expression on her face. Then, the Charizard's pained bellowing subsided as it was sucked into the red and white sphere. She took her next Pokeball, her last one, and for a moment, it was as if she hesitated.

I looked to Windy, her eyes were there to meet mine, and it was clear the feeling was mutual: fear. We both knew what her last Pokemon was. And we both desperately hoped that she wouldn't send it out, that she would just give up and let Gabriel win. But then, at the same time, we both were sure that she didn't care about what we knew and hoped, and that she was going to send it out anyway.

"Ampharos, Thunder!" she yelled, throwing the Pokeball in the only place she could: the water.

The tall electric Pokemon appeared in the middle of the pool, squealing and splashing frantically. At first I thought I could hear a crackling, but it stopped suddenly, as the Light Pokemon apparently had to focus on staying afloat.

"Crunch, Sharpedo," commanded Gabriel. The teenager seemed almost reluctant, and the frown on his face was apparent.

In a flash, the Ampharos was within the Sharpedo's jaws, and in another, a sickening _crunch_ mangled with distressed squealing ran through the battlefield. In moments, blood was mixed in with chlorinated water, and the Light Pokemon's vibrant yellow fur was soaked with red.

"C'mon, Ampharos! Thunder attack!" shrieked Grace.

Sharpedo bit down again, pleasure obvious through its toothy smile, and another _crunch _was heard as the Ampharos' bones broke underneath the pressure. However, no squealing followed this time.

"Thunder attack! Please!"

No crackling. No electricity. No movement at all. The Sharpedo opened its mouth again widely, ready to bite down on the limp body of the electric Pokemon, but before it could, it was transformed into the same color as the blood around it before being sucked in to the Pokeball Gabriel was holding out.

"I forfeit," said the ashy haired teenager, his voice weak and quivering. "I forfeit!" he repeated, loudly, and more confidently.

It was completely silent. No one in the crowd moved or said anything. Ampharos' body remained in the bloodstained pool, and slowly sank to the bottom. For a few moments, it was as if time had stopped entirely.

Grace was struggling with a Pokeball. She kept pressing the Pokeball and pointing it at the Pokemon, with no effect. Slowly, her attempts became more and more frantic, and the frustrated frown on her face became more and more prominent until she finally just threw the Pokeball onto the ground and dived into the pool. Clearly visible despite the blood, she swam further and down until she reached the Ampharos' body, gently put her arms under it, than came back up. She placed the electric Pokemon on the cement outside of the edge of the pool, then climbed out herself.

At that instant, the frozen world exploded into a flurry of words, sirens, and movements. The crowd all rushed to get off the bleachers, either to get away, help, or cause drama, but it was so chaotic barely anyone managed to get off anyway. The speakers that were supposed to give announcements at the beginning and ends of battles were now trying to scream at all the spectators to calm down, but they just added to the noise. An ambulance somehow appeared near the edge of the pool, and two Machokes came out of it and loaded the Ampharos's body inside of the vehicle.

At some point or another, Windy and I found ourselves also by the pool and next to Grace after a vigorous fight to get off the bleachers. Her face was stone, her clothes were soaked, and her hair wasn't pulled back for the first time I could remember, her scrunchie apparently lost in the pool. Windy also wasn't her usual self either, as she had now lost her whimsical mien and stood completely still with her eyes closed as if in deep thought. Neither would talk, and I didn't understand how. The three of us stood there for what had to be a half an hour, watching the chaotic scene the hustle which ensued even then, until a man in a black suit and a red tie approached us.

He was directly to the point, in a flat monotone voice. "Are any of you Grace Wisteria?"

Grace looked up and nodded slowly. My heart could have burst in sympathy; she almost looked like a child. Her white t-shirt was soaked and tinted slightly red, and she had no idea what was going to happen to her next.

"Come with me, please," said the man, and Grace nodded again. He took her to a shiny black SUV, the engine roared to life, and they drove to the glass training building.

\

It was three 'o clock in the morning when the Grace finally trudged into her room, her face tired, weary, and exhausted. Windy and I sat in her bed, and she took a place next to me. We waited patiently, and it was about fifteen minutes until she began speaking.

"Well, it's dead." Her voice sounded dull and uninterested, as if this was more of a minor inconvenience more than anything else. It felt like something cold trickled down my spine; I sort of figured this after seeing it's lifeless body, but still, to think that something alive and moving could suddenly be lifeless...

I looked over to Windy's glossy blue eyes and witnessed a tear escape. I looked away quickly, pretending not to have seen.

It took Grace another five minutes to continue, and this time her voice quivered dangerously. "And, uh, they might not give me my trainer's licence." She paused again. "They said that I didn't follow a trainer's proper moral conduct or something."

We all sat there, quietly reflecting to ourselves. Something was odd. Grace had to be a trainer, she had to. The idea of her having to go home and never be a trainer, to go back to school and be a student again simply seemed, well, wrong. But the league officials were entirely justified in prohibiting her. She sent out the Ampharos (Dead now. I cringed.) when there was no platform for it to stand on, and kept it out to suffer more pain when she knew it was incapable of battling until it ultimately died.

I cast a furtive glance at Windy, but the secrecy was unnecessary. She was lying down, her eyes were shut, and her chest was slowly moving up and down.

Next, I looked over to Grace. She didn't even seem to notice: she was staring steadily at the wall with a blank look. I had never noticed that her green eyes also had some small flecks of gold around them. It was sort of tragic, really. All she really ever wanted is to become a Pokemon trainer. And now..?

I laid down, as Windy did, and shut my eyes. I realized that she was completely right. Sometimes, there was no point in worrying.

Sometimes, you just had to shut your eyes, and wait for the sun to rise.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\


	5. Graduation

Chapter Four

Graduation

"_The National Pok__ེ__mon Battling League reported today, in regard to the unfortunate accident that occurred yesterday_ _at their Youth Training Center where an angry Sharpedo brutally mutilated an Ampharos to death in the middle of a Pok__ེ__mon battle, the results of an autopsy on the murdered Ampharos." _reported Windy's portable stereo that sat on the end table in Grace's room, tuned to a news station.

"_During the battle, an unnamed contender in the battle commanded their Sharpedo to use 'Crunch' attack, which, described by the National Pok__ེ__mon Battling League, is a move where the Pok__ེ__mon 'bites down with great force on their opponent with fangs infused with dark-type energy'. The autopsy shows no sign of recognized dark-type energy in the electric type's system, and it is known that the Sharpedo is perfectly capable of using said dark-type energy in its bites, leading officials to believe that the shark Pok__ེ__mon bit down with malicious intent. They tell us that neither contender knew the Sharpedo was doing this, thus neither can be held responsible for_ _the actions of the Sharpedo that day. The Sharpedo is being released into the ocean, and the Ampharos's body is being sent to Lavender Town in Kanto for a proper burial._"

I gulped, and let that settle in.

"So. I guess Grace is getting her licence, then?" I asked Windy. The girl in question had been taken away by the man with the red tie fifteen minutes earlier, apparently to get told all this we had just heard.

"Yes. I think," said Windy. She was sitting next to me on Grace's bed, and her hair was askew. We had both gotten a rude awakening by Grace, who told us frantically to quickly hide underneath the bed when we got knocks on the door.

Anyone who was there knew that this radio station wasn't entirely accurate. While sure, the Sharpedo may not have 'infused its fangs with dark energy' or whatever, but Grace had thrown the Pokེball into the pool, even when she knew the Pokེmon inside couldn't swim, and let that Pokེmon suffer and die when it could do absolutely nothing to defend itself. It gave me a gross feeling in my stomach, knowing this, as if I was lying to someone.

But that didn't matter, really, did it? Grace was getting her trainer's licence. I should be happy.

Just at that moment, Grace burst through the door. Windy gave her a knowing nod, and she said absolutely nothing. She strode over and grabbed a scrunchie from the box next to the small stereo, tied her hair back, and then went to the door. Finally, her voice made its anticipated debut.

"Let's go get breakfast," she said blandly, "I didn't eat at all yesterday."

\

It was awkward, at first.

Our conversation at breakfast basically consisted of a few short meaningless sentences. Grace's, and by extension Windy and I's, notoriety had obviously grown at least two fold since the previous day, and those who had tolerated us before now set there minds to actively stay out of our way, almost as if we had the plague or something. All to the better, I supposed. But we couldn't dwell on this forever, could we? That was my reasoning when I opened my mouth, intending to say something optimistic about our graduation that would occur the next day. But then I got so rudely interrupted by an intercom sporting Mr. Sedgewick's voice, speaking in a painfully happy and politically correct tone.

"Due to the events that happened yesterday, the final match between Grace Wisteria and Miles Edgeworth will no longer be occurring. Students are suggested to take it easy, as tomorrow they will be graduating and setting off with their newly-chosen starter Pokེmon."

This ruined the mood instantaneously. Of course the battle wasn't going to happen, no one expected it to, darn it! I looked over to Grace's empty seat. She had disappeared, tray and all.

I looked to Windy, who's face, was, well, weird. I wasn't really all that hungry, so I went to empty my tray, and she mimicked me, silently. Then we set off upstairs, to my room, and she finally turned to me.

"Don't talk to Grace, please. I think this sort of shook her," she said soulfully, her sincerely blue eyes echoing the concern in her voice. "She'll be fine by tomorrow, I think, especially since we're leaving. She hasn't really been left alone to think about it yet, but when after she's done..." she paused, summoning a bit of sarcasm, "She'll be our regular old Grace again. Whether that's good or bad is left to debate."

I chuckled. When we got inside elevator, I pressed four, as always. She then reached over and poked the '6' button, confirming that she was heading to her own room.

Then I mustered a bit of courage and said quickly something I had been musing for a good part of the summer. "We're, uh, leaving soon, right? I was, uh, wondering if you, er, wanted to travel with me. Like, as partners."

Windy looked over to me and give me a very telling facial expression. "Oh my goodness, Jerwin, I'm sorry. You see, I was going to travel with my brother for a while. Maybe we'll meet up later?"

"Oh."

Brother? She never said anything about a brother. But on the same note, none of us really ever talked all that much about our family.

Windy, still inexplicably adept at reading people's body language, told me, "My brother. He just turned ten last April. He's going to Pokེmon coordinater training right now. We were planning on meeting in Cambrell Town."

_Oh, that's fine_, I told myself, a bit flustered. Grace had made it very clear and wasn't entirely subtle when she told us both that she intended to go on her Pokེmon journey by herself. So I'd be going it alone, at least for a while? Good, I guess. That's what I had intended from the beginning, correct?

But still, it seemed that my mind had evolved and morphed the idea of a Pokེmon journey to the point where I kept imagining doing it with a friend, and now that I knew I wasn't, the concept seemed rather foreign. But still definitely doable, and enticing. I guess I'd just have to do it without thinking.

The elevator made a small _ding_ and the doors opened. A few people walked in, and I stepped out.

"Jerwin!" called an airy voice from behind me, and I detected a slight trace of humor. I whipped around as the elevator's doors were closing, and realized that I had gotten off on the wrong floor.

A stinging cold exploded across my face, shattering my dreams and bringing me to reality, a sharp contrast. I yelled- what was happening, why was I wet, why wasn't I warm and cozy under my blankets - until I saw Grace standing over me with a metal pail. She was clothed in a forest green turtle neck and black dress pants. Uh... _was _I awake?

"W-What are you doing?" I stuttered angrily.

"Waking you up. We're graduating in fifteen minutes."

"Holy CARP!" I immediately jumped out of bed and banged into the wall. I began digging underneath my bed for the special clothes I had saved for this occasion and began putting them on right there.

"Did you have to throw water all over me?" I said as I pulled on ink-black trousers.

"Nope," she said simply. "Nice candy-cane boxers."

"I mean, where did you even get that?" I ranted, as I put on three different types of undershirt.

"Found it," she popped.

Finally I pulled on the tux top and began wrestling with the tie. "And how the heck did you get into my room?"

She walked over, skillfully double-knotted the red tie and tucked it down the little vest thingy, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a tiny brown bobby pin. Then she walked out of the room to leave me with my hopeless hair.

Yep. Grace was herself again.

\

Dad and I had a short rendezvous when I finally finished preparing myself. He apparently was getting a bit worried I hadn't come to the outside auditorium yet, and had come up and to check on me. His first words were, "What was that girl doing in your room?" I hugged him.

The ceremony was short and sweet. The sun shone down brightly, and while it was probably a bit uncomfortable to others, it was sweltering for me. Apparently there was some sort of valedictorian who gave all off this clearly artificial talk about how this camp changed our lives and how we would forever remember it (admittedly that last bit was probably true), and then they passed out diplomas and tiny plastic cards: our trainer licenses. I could have squealed- it was as if this tiny little card made it all official and worthwhile (which, I reminded myself, it did). Then the crowd, which basically consisted of the graduatee's family, mingled in with graduates. Everybody was all, like, happy, and stuff.

Before everyone could get too comfortable, some dude with a mega phone nestled himself into the middle of the crowd. "Everyone with last names between A and H, please report to the West Clay Arena," he boomed, blaring out my eardrums. I cringed, then realized what he was saying. It was time to choose starter Pokེmon!

Dad and I wandered over to Grace, as Windy was nowhere to be found, who was sitting on a bench with a stoical looking man and a woman wearing ridiculously conservative dress.

"Are these your parents?" I asked, as warmly as I could, when I got their attention.

"Yeah," said Grace in a signaturely curt tone. I noticed that her dad was staring me with a piercing glare (so that's where she got it). I nervously stepped back a bit, so Dad took the stage.

"It's nice to meet you," he said in a naturally breezy tune. For no apparent reason, he chuckled a bit, but that was Dad.

"Hello," said Grace's father quietly, his tone blatantly disapproving. "It's good to see that Grace has made a few friends."

"Dad, shut up," Grace snapped. "Jerwin, go away, you and you're dad are obviously too _lower class _for them."

"Grace, you will not speak about your father that way," chipped in her mother, voice stunningly loud and shrill for such a quiet-looking woman.

"I will speak about _my father_ any way I damn well please," countered Grace.

Her father's face grew red. "Listen here, young lady. Your mother and I gave you food, shelter, and poured our heart and soul into giving you the Christian education you deserve. We will not," his eyes narrowed, "_will not_ be spoken to in such a disrespectful way."

"Attempted to brainwash me, more like." interjected Grace in an undertone.

Her father's face got flushed and his tone more hysteric, though he got no louder. "You're are _lucky _that we're letting you go on a journey at all. You've _murdered _a Pokེmon, and you're flirting with boys-"

"Last names between I through O, please report to the West Clay Arena," boomed a mega phone behind us. Happy to slip away, I darted across the white sidewalk, Pokemon-bound. Apparently, I left Dad behind me. God, I hope he didn't try to solve the argument. That'd be so like him.

In only moments I was at the arena. Portable tables were set up, and on those tables were multitudes and multitudes of Pokeballs, covered in glass domes that apparently protected against theft. Several adults stood among the tables, presumably the ones to go to once you had made your selection.

Kids my age began to flood in. Well, I better get started, or else be stuck with a Magikarp.

I had read about half of the book that Grace had lent me, but that was after some zealous studying and by that time my eyes had glazed over and I really wasn't comprehending it at all. So? I was back to square one; a traditional starter Pokེmon.

Finally I got to the correct table, aptly labeled 'The National Pokེmon of Maria". Standing by it already was none other than- you guessed it - an ashy-haired teenager named Gabriel. I tried to shy away and avoid any confrontation, but he was too quick for me.

"Hey," he said as I approached, "You're a friend of Grace's, right? Wow, there's so many Pokེmon here, I don't know which to choose." He gulped, and his voice got quieter, if only minutely.

"I was wondering if you could, eh, tell her that I'm sorry about what happened. And that jerk who assaulted you in the hallway was just being stupid. He isn't normally like that, I swear, and I don't know what was up, but I don't agree with the way he was acting."

"I would, er, tell her myself but..."

I almost smiled. "Yeah, I know. She's Grace."

He beamed. "Thanks a billion." Then, he turned whistled loudly to one of the attendants, who promptly arrived and asked him which Pokེmon he'd like.

"An Embleo, please," he requested. The attendant walked over to the national starter table, unlocked the dome with a golden key, and handed the red and white sphere to Gabriel, along with a Pokedex they somehow made appear.

"See ya," he called as he walked away.

The attendant turned to me. "What Pokེmon would you like?" she asked, in the unnaturally kind way service workers did.

Feeling on-the-spot, I turned to the table. My options? Embleo, the fire-type lion cub Pokེmon. Silvas, the grass-type leaf Pokེmon. And finally, Otteshore, the water-type otter Pokemon. I quickly attempted to strategize, (which would be my best bet in battle, which types wouldn't I see until much later in my journey?) but ultimately ended up blurting out my favorite.

"Otteshore," I panted. The attendant looked at me oddly, but nonetheless handed me a Pokེball. It felt metallic and light. Despite the fact that I had carried them a million times before in Battling Class, it was extremely odd. This was, seriously, my first Pokེmon.

Next, they slipped me a sleek, dark green, rectangular Pokedex, very cold. I prodded it into my pocket, then headed back to find my father.

Which, thanks to Murphy's Law, was easier said than done. I gave up soon, found a nice isolated piece of grass to plop down on, and maximized the sphere in my hand. It grew in both size and weight.

"Go. Otteshore," I guessed, as the circle fell to the ground. I closed my eyes in anticipation of the bright light that followed.

"Otteshore," purred a smooth voice. My eyelids slid open slowly to see an overlarge otter, composed entirely of what looked like aqua; transluctant and just as stunning as in the books. It squeaked again, "Otte," giving the impression of a something speaking underwater. It stood on four legs, and appeared to be smiling.

I reached my hand forward, and it literally shook in nervousness. I ran in across the Pokེmon's, no, _my _Pokེmon's back. There was definitely some sort of membrane separating the Otteshore's insides from its surroundings, and it was very cool to the touch.

It seemed to enjoy this. Before long, it was rubbing against my shin in an extremely cat-esque manner, and while smiling sheepishly (I had made a new friend, after all), I noticed my jeans were getting rather damp.

"It's nice to meet you, Otteshore," I said clearly, beaming. It seemed to be smiling back, and the message in its eyes revealed that it was absolutely delighted to meet me too. I was definitely happy with it; this starter couldn't have been any more traditional.

Discreetly, I tried to tell its gender. It was a boy, definitely. I had aced the Pokemon Physiology exam.

"So, why don't we think of a good name for you?"

He looked into my eyes and nodded. I began to wring my mind for masculine-sounding names.

"William?" I inquired.

Something crossed his face, but it was too quick for me to judge with the few Windy-taught skills I had. Nonetheless, he shook his head.

"Sailor? Casper?" No dice.

So and so I continued, even exhausting my tiny Sinnoan vocabulary, until my Otteshore broke into a peal of laughter. He was a she, proving yet again that theory is different than practice. Or that my Pokemon Physiology class was crap.

"Samantha?" I asked, blushing. She giggled, nodding.

"Jerwin!" gently harped Windy's vocal cords from somewhere behind me. I craned my neck to see the rainbow-haired girl holding a deep scarlet fox in her arms.

"Hey, Windy," I said as she plopped down beside me. "This is Samantha."

The introduction certainly was in order, seeing as Samantha immediately seemed to become infatuated with Windy's arm. "Hey girl," muttered Windy, petting her back, "nice to meet you. I'll hopefully be seeing a lot of you."

"Amber, meet Jerwin."

As if on cue, the russet fox stood up in Windy's arms, yawned dramatically, then laid back down with her head endearingly rested on her paws. Aww.

"Hello, Amber," I said kindly, reaching forward to scratch her ears. Without lifting her head, she showed her teeth and snarled, long and deep.

I jumped back, genuinely afraid, and Samantha bounded over to my side with a concerned look on her tiny face. Windy shot me an _I'm sorry _look, but said nothing, and the growl quieted.

"I'll, uh, see you later," I told Windy, and Samantha waited no time in leaping into my arms (which wasn't uncomfortable as much as it was awkward). "See you, Jerwin," sang Windy, sincerely apologetic. I nabbed up my Pokེball and was out of there.

Only a moment of aimless wandering had passed before I bumped right into Dad. Genially he petted Samantha, told her she was pretty a couple of times, and alerted me that they were selling supplies indoors and we better hurry there before it gets too packed.

I pulled out the (my) Pokེball. "Uh, do you mind if I recall you now?" I asked Samantha. She laughed a little and nodded. I pushed the center button on the Pokེball and felt the mass disappear from my arms as Samantha melted into a red glow. The only evidence of her existence now was my waterlogged t-shirt and the ridiculous grin on my face.

The cafeteria had, in short, been transformed into a Pokemon Market. Colorful rows, jammed tight with Pokemon goods, had been erected in my absence. It was bustling with activity: kids and their parents going around and either purchasing some needed items or lusting over the hopelessly expensive HM's and the like. Dad and I took off in a semi-random direction and began to search for the things we knew I needed. Already I had a hand-me-down backpack, sleeping bag, and mini-tent back from when Dad went on his journey, but I still needed some of the more specific items, such as potions, Pokeballs, and similar things. Dad was generous, and though he wanted to stay and chat with an old friend he met up with, I wanted to get out of their quickly because I was really hot.

Within about an hour or two, I had changed, Dad and I had loaded the stuff from my room into the truck, and I had packed my leather backpack (so cool)! Dad insisted that if I wanted to leave today we'd have to get supper soon, so I gave one last, semi-nostalgic look at the building I had stayed at for the last summer before climbing into the roaring truck, Pokེball tight in my palm.

\

Lunch was nice. It was outside, so dad and I chatted and I got to let Samantha out. She was adorable, pouncing at dandelions and gnats. I would really like her.

"Which town do you want to go to first?"

"Cambrell," I answered, almost automatically. I hadn't got either Windy's nor Grace's Pokedex number, so I wouldn't be able to communicate.

"Why? That's the grass gym."

"Oh, uh," I stumbled, "My one friend is going there."

"That Grace girl?"

"No, my other friend. Windy."

He smiled, and his eyes crinkled. "All your friends are girls, Jerwin."

We laughed, a little awkwardly. Then it got a bit more serious.

"I'm very proud of you, son."

I smiled a little.

"Do your best. Take some risks. Make some friends. This is your adventure.

"And for gods's sake, call every once and a while."

\

It was only a short drive. Route Three was thankfully very close.

I grunted as I hefted my backpack onto my back. It was heavy. But manageable. Samantha meowed at my knees, obviously excited.

"I love you, Dad."

He pulled me into a large bear hug. "Bye, son." He released me, backed up, and looked teary. Short and sweet, as always.

Route three began as a long, flat plain, and long wheat-looking grass overgrew everywhere. The dirt road was surprisingly empty. The summer air was beginning to cool, and the beautiful duet of Kricketots and Nincadas marked the start of a picturesque evening.

I gulped. I wasn't nervous... well, I was, but I was more excited, and euphoric. This was it. I was starting my Pokemon journey. I was starting a new adventure. I was growing up.

With only a backwards wave, Samantha and I walked into the vibrant orange sunset. We weren't aware of the dark clouds looming in our future, but then again, we didn't care.


	6. Starting Off

Chapter Five

Starting Out

_Route Three had an interesting past._

_It used to be a loggers path. Naturally, when the Pokemon Revolution of Maria came about, logging all around the country was prohibited. However, it became a popular route for Pokemon trainers to use, due to its biodiversity, broad landscape, and ease to travel across._

_When Kantoan Empire invaded Maria in its early years, they didn't stand a chance against Maria's powerful navy, so they were fighting a losing battle. That was, of course, until they utilized viral warfare, a concept only they understood and used at the time. They smuggled in the__** p. aurous**__ virus, which infected Rattata and Raticate (Pokemon that were widespread and indeed worshiped at the time) with symptoms that made them bloodthirsty. This killed off innumerable amounts of people in Maria, including many of the soldiers, who kept them as guards and good-sniffers. The Maria army still pressed on, however barely, and the Kantoan army could not proceed._

_Princess Iris, a sweet little girl known widely to the country as 'Maria's Rose', turned seven about this time. She was known for visiting the soldiers and singing to them in her sweet little voice, and they adored her. Iris soon set out on her Pokemon journey. Although it really wasn't acceptable for girls to do at the time, little Iris had defiantly ignored this, and the people of Maria cheered her on for her pioneering spirit. She set off on Route Three with her Bulbasaur, happy and carefree as a seven old could be, until she came across an infected Rattata. After a brief fight in which her Bulbasaur lost, Iris got attacked._

_Her dead corpse was found five days later._

_The country, instead of being disheartened, was respirited. King Joseph had written a speech containing the famous words, "Maria's rose may have withered, but her thorns still remain". Maria's army adopted Iris's little song she sang them as their theme, and fought with a new power. The Kantoan Army was defeated, and Maria became a center of culture and trade, unified by Iris's memory. Maria was the first country to widely allow girls to become Pokemon trainers (although they now had to wait until they were ten years old), and the Rattata species in Maria had been eradicated. A rose garden was planted near the beginning of Route Three in Iris's honor, and had been kept thriving ever since._

Samantha was captured by this story, and had me recite it (using zealous squeaks and meows until I understood what she was asking) exactly three times after we passed through the garden. I, too, was amazed. All my life I had really only read about it, but now I was actually seeing the serene rose garden, and smelling the history. I never knew that a long pole had been erected in the center of the garden, where generations upon generations of stunned Pokemon trainers had carved in the words '_Never Again'_, or that I would join them. I was beginning to see why my dull history teacher chose her profession.

Samantha and I kept walking on, and darkness was soon to follow. Night, at first, was intoxicating. I had always been infatuated with the outside. How could anyone look up at the billions and billions and stars and the sickle shaped moon and still be depressed? However, eventually it became a hindrance, and I began to stumble over large rocks and whatnot, so we decided it was time to set up camp.

For a logging trail, Route Three was stunningly devoid of trees. This was, I figured, because the first half of the trail had already been logged into oblivion. This meant that I wouldn't get to try out my little flint set I had learned how to use in Traveling Class (oh darn!), and I'd be lacking any sort of quaint little campfire.

Also, actually finding a place to actually sleep was a bit difficult. Although I hadn't seen anyone all evening, (which was pretty odd. Had they all decided to go to a different town, or wait until tomorrow to set off?), I didn't want to sleep out in the middle of the trail. I supposed I could have pulled up some of the grass, but then I'd probably be struck by lightning for violating the Leave No Trace rule. Finally, I decided to just sleep on the very edge of the trail in my sleeping bag and without a tent. Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but hey.

So. Within a couple minutes, I was lying on the ground, snuggled in my sleeping bag. So, um. Cool. This was neat. "Ottershore," squeaked Samantha, and she cuddled up next me. As adorable as it was, oh my god, she was freezing.

My mind automatically began to drift over the events of the past day. Wow. Grace, graduation, Grace again, Samantha, Windy, Dad, more Dad, Iris, a little walking. I'd say it was pretty productive (see: awesome). But where was the most important part? I wanted a Pokemon battle.

But, there was always tomorrow. By midday, I should be in the forest, and I should have my pick. Heck, I'd probably be sick of it. Optimistic, I shut my eyes, listened to nature's music, and let sleep lap over me.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

_Shuffle shuffle._

_Shuff shuff shuffle._

I swatted at... something. I was sleepy.

_Shuffle. Shuff. Shuffle._

C'mon. I had just gotten to sleep. I, um, think.

_Shuff shuffle shuff._

My eyelids slid open. Everything was black as pitch. Well, no it wasn't. The sky was a dandy little night light.

_Shuff._

I looked around. Samantha was next to me (thankfully not _right_ next to me) and she was slowly breathing. And, uh. A tiny dark figure was moving around at my backpack.

_Shuffle Shuffle._

Ah! Moving around at my backpack? That couldn't be good!

"Samantha!" I yelled quietly. She propped right up onto her feet and looked directly at the dark figure. It slowly turned around.

"Phanpy," it said cutely.

Uh. It was adorable. My mind began to whir. Could this be my first Pokemon battle?

"Phan Phan!" it trumpeted, as if cheering me on.

"Um, Samantha, use Pound attack!"

Samantha hesitated. (I couldn't blame her, the thing was precious!) However, she ran forward as fast as her tiny legs would carry her and pounced on the ground Pokemon.

"Phaaannn," it cried cutely, not looking particularly hurt but apparently feeling bad that Samantha would attack it. Somehow without pushing Samantha off of it, the Phanpy tucked its trunk into his legs, effectively curling up into a little ball.

OK, um. What did Samantha probably know? "Pound again," I resigned.

Samantha pounced, and the Phanpy rolled a little, but didn't budge. Wow, battling when your Pokemon only knew like two moves was obnoxious. "Er.. Pound attack, Samantha."

Samantha just sort of looked at me and smiled. She opened her mouth, and began to make small chocking sounds. (Do otters make hairballs?) Then, suddenly, a small sphere began to form around her mouth. The bubble got larger and larger, detached, and gently floated with odd accuracy to the Phanpy, with a splashing sound.

In a burst of intuition, I recognized this as Bubble attack. "Awesome, Samantha!" She smiled at me briefly, but then immediately bounced over to Phanpy, concerned.

I sort of wiggled over, to examine it more throughly. The moon simply did not provide enough light, so I grabbed my flashlight to shed some light (ha ha) on the situation. The tiny elephant was lying flat on its back, blue trunk over its face, and small little red tongue adorably sticking out of its mouth. It was fainted.

Quickly, I dug around my backpack, and came out with a small syringe, and hesitated. Where would be the best place to inject this potion? Did it really matter? There were some tiny, vague instructions on it that managed to confuse me further. Finally, feeling a sense of urgency, I pricked the Phanpy on the leg and injected the neon blue substance. You could never go wrong with a leg. Right?

No, you apparently couldn't. Within only a few seconds, the Phanpy stirred. "Py," it muttered weakly, a moment later. Finally, its small black eyes flickered open. None of us moved, and we just sort of stared at each other.

Then, after a few momentss of silence, it shrieked, "PHAAANNNPPPPPYYY!" and ran into the tall grass. By the time I grabbed a Pokeball, it had disappeared.

I stared from the Pokeball in my hand, to Samantha, to the dirt road.

"Ohh," I said dumbly. "I guess I should have threw the Pokeball... at the Phanpy... before healing it." Too tired to feel embarrassed, I retreated entirely into the sleeping bag and buried my head in my pillow. Sleep was forgiving.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The movies had definitely made sleeping out in the open, beneath the stars, much more appealing than it actually was.

When I woke up unnaturally around 5:30 in the morning, I was soaked. And freezing. I almost literally jumped out of my sleeping bag, frigid, and onto the equally cold ground. A cold breeze was blowing, and any sort of summer heat had not made it through the night. Dew, I realized had condensated. On everything.

Wasting no time, I pulled on my hiking boots (which sloshed awkwardly) and grappled my backpack for my hoody. I rolled up my sleeping bag, attached it to my backpack, and then I was ready to go. That was easy. Samantha and I each took a turn yawning lazily, and then we were off. I desperately hoped the sun would rise soon, as my jeans were freezing and sort of chafing.

Around six o' clock, I got my wish. The sun sat perched, ever so minutely, on the East horizon. It granted a bit of warmth, or at least enough that I kept shamelessly kept avoiding shadows. Slowly, the world around me came to life - the grass began to ruffle, Jumpluff pluffed through the air, and various natural sounds began to fill the ecosystem.

And then, Samantha and I received another surprise. "Phanpy!" we heard. Suddenly, the tiny blue elephant came, sprinting, out of the tall grass. Before I could comprehend what was going on, it rammed directly into the back of my knee with surprising strength and I fell over. Immediately, it began sniffing my butt. I just sort of yelped.

I stumbled onto my feet, completely bonsnhivoloofed. I looked around. The road was entirely empty, barring Samantha and I. Nothing but grass surrounded us. Then, as Samantha pointed out, a Pokeball lay on the ground.

It wiggled once.

It wiggled twice.

It wiggled a third time.

It stood still, and glowed red. Phanpy was caught.

For a moment, everything stood still as I contemplated what happened. Slowly, I pieced it together. The Phanpy had come back to me, for whatever reason, knocked me over, and searched for a Pokeball, and sucked itself into one.

Then, out of nowhere, a "YES!" tore across the countryside, and I was surprised it came from my own mouth. I grabbed Samantha and swung her around and she squealed too because I had just caught my first Pokemon and everything was great!

I leaned over, picked the Pokeball of the ground, and tossed it up in the air out of jubilation. This was AWESOME!

"Come on out, Phanpy!" I yelled. In a burst of white light, the small blue elephant exploded out of the sphere. It squealed and ran into my leg. I fell over again, but laughed because this was just so wonderful. I had caught my first Pokemon! Or, perhaps, my first Pokemon had caught me.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The day went on. Around midmorning, I opened some cans of Pokemon food, and they seemed to enjoy well enough, even though it was cold. I realized that there was no way I had enough food to give my two Pokemon three meals a day, and I told them sadly with an apology, but it didn't seem to phase them at all and they smiled at me. I myself tried a finger-full of Samantha's food, and then I just sort of lost my appetite, so I abstained for Sunflora Seeds and figured I'd have some huge meal later.

We got into a couple more Pokemon battles throughout the day with wild Pokemon, such as Spearow, and I was pleasantly surprised that my Pokemon won every single battle and I only had to use a potion once. (I was extremely squeamish when trying to administer it to Samantha; I was afraid that if I punctured her skin with the needle, than water would start flowing out or something and she'd die. I did it eventually and nothing bad happened, but still!)

Also, Phanpy (whom I had never named, for whatever reason), was endlessly curious. He was always sniffing around in the grass, and occasionally brought me back small objects such as a plastic bottle or a dirty spoon, and I always stuck them in my pocket and praised him for it. Samantha was much calmer and stuck to my side the whole time, but they were both extremely adorable and very agreeable. (This led me to wonder if there was some evolutionary advantage to small Pokemon being cute, but that was just me being nerdy.)

Oh, and I found out why there were no trainers on this path. The sky above me was blue and sunny, with an occasional puffy white cloud chugged along, but on the West horizon (or whatever was to the left of me) dark, foreboding clouds forecasted a monsoon. I sort of mentally slapped myself in the forehead for not looking at the forecast before I left, but it wasn't gonna stop me. If I was lucky, I'd be in Campbrell early tomorrow, and maybe the worst of the storm wouldn't hit until after that.

"Phan!" trumpeted Phanpy from within the grass. He swung his trunk endearingly back in forth, but nothing was clutched in it.

"What is it, Phanpy?" I asked, starting towards him. He started further into the grass, than looked back as if he wanted me to follow him. When I did (followed by Samantha, of course), he began running forward, tripping over his trunk but getting back up and sprinting again.

"Slow down, Phanpy. It's hard. To run with my. Backpack," I huffed, although Phanpy didn't slow a bit. Samantha easily matched his pace, being a rather fast Pokemon, but I, being the slow human, had trouble keeping up.

Suddenly, they both stopped.

I tripped again, but got back to where they were, panting. They seemed to surround a bunch of small stalks that at first glance were indistinguishable from all of the surrounding land. "What are they?" I asked breathlessly.

In response, Samantha hopped up with cat-like agility, swatted at the plant, and came back down with something in her claws. I walked over and she placed it in my palm.

It was small, and round, and covered in small pores. I brushed off the dirt and revealed it was... blue. Well, duh. It was an Oran Berry. I popped it into my mouth and felt the tart flavor spread throughout my body, relaxing my muscles. I felt like I could run another mile.

"Thanks, Phanpy!" I said, and I began to pick them and put them in plastic bags. When that stalk was empty, Phanpy found another nearby one. We down on them for lunch, and then walked on.

It wasn't long until we reached the forest. Trees stretched their branches into the sky, as if they wanted to touch their god. Their leaves cast long shadows on the forest floor. They proved to be very useful, however, when it began to rain.

I had always loved the rain. When the crew and I stopped for the day, around seven, I closed my eyes and looked upwards. I let the sound of the rain overwhelm me. I let it fill my heart and soul and just _laughed_ because everything was so perfect. Samantha and Phanpy laughed too, and we felt like one with the world. I spun around and around and caught the water droplets on our tongues.

Bright-eyed and optimistic, I set up my tent. I read them _To Kill a Mockingbird_ in a funny Southern drawl until it was too dark, and we fell asleep cuddled up against each other. The perfect end to the perfect day.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The roar of the rain was monstrous. Almost deafening.

My mind worked very slowly. Where was I?

I was on a bus. What was I doing?

Looking out the window. Looking at what?

The lake, of course.

Something was sniffing at my foot. How odd.

Why was I looking at the clouds?

There was a man in them. He was beautiful. He was golden. What was he doing?

He was talking. Talking to me. What was he saying?

His voice was like butter. He was telling me to listen to him, for he was my God.

I wrapped my sleeping bag tightly around me. I did not want my God to leave me.

What did he do next?

He reached forward, and touched my soul.

He touched my soul, and it was as if I was invincible and everything just felt utterly _right_.

He touched my soul, and it was as if I was insignificant and everything just felt utterly _wrong_.

He touched my soul.

He touched my soul...

"PHANPY!" screamed a tiny blue elephant, hardly audible over the immense roar of the deluge hitting the sides of the tent.

I cringed as I snapped out of my dream. It trickled out of my brain like water did out of a strainer. I was left with an depressing empty feeling, as if I was missing out on something important.

"PHAN!" squealed Phanpy again, now nudging me with his trunk.

"What is it?" I asked numbly, making no point to raise my voice.

He rushed over to the door of the tent. Samantha was there also, pacing it nervously.

"Do you guys _seriously_ want out?"

Both of them had a dire face of exasperation that was a yes if I had ever seen one. Something was up. I began to slide out of my sleeping bag and placed my hand on the floor of the tent and _crap it was flooding_.

Hastily I pulled on my boots, rolled up my (thankfully waterproof) sleeping bag, grabbed my backpack, and got outside to see if I could save the tent. It was terrible. The rain fell so hard that it was hard to see a couple yards in front of me and it literally stung when it hit my body. A nearby stream that I hadn't noticed before had swollen to the size of a full-fledged river and was flowing forward with the ferocity of a Tauros.

Phanpy's trunk stuck into the air, signaling that he had smelt something. "Wait, no!" I called as I tried to pull the stakes out of the ground, but by that time he had become indistinguishable from his surroundings. "Crap!" I yelled to no one in particular, and I began to chase after him, Samantha at my heels.

Luckily it didn't take long. He was crouched on the ground, against something brown, red and wet. "What is it?" I asked him, random curiosity coming over me. I reached forward with my freezing, shaky hands and flipped it over.

A decimated Teddiursa. Its eyes were clearly clawed out, blood pooling in its place, and it had many cuts all over its skin. Its bones were broken and its face creepily distorted and _oh my god its chest was moving up and down and it was moving and it was still alive._

Quickly, I dug through the outside pocket on my backpack and pulled out four syringes. I injected each one into the cub's body but still nothing was happening. I threw the empty potions to the ground, swung on my backpack and pulled the it into my arms. "Where do we go? I asked my Pokemon, and even though they probably had no better idea than I did, they led the way.

We were running.

My shoulders hurt. I couldn't see. Most of all I was cold. _Cold_. My entire body used pain to tell me that I _needed_ warmth, but I simply couldn't provide it with any. My fingers grew numb and I was heaving and I hated this so much but I had to keep going on or the Teddiursa would be gone, just like...

The Teddiursa. Its breathing was getting harsher, and noticeable differences was happening to its body. Its cuts were closing, but that was the only good thing that could be said. The small movements and jerks it had made before had ceased. Its limbs were elongating- a lot, and at awkward angles. Worst of all, new cuts were forming... and, I realized, bone was growing out of those new cuts.

We were running. I was exhausted.

We were running. I was exhausted.

I was exhausted. And I was on the muddy ground, not running, not moving, with the Teddiursa clutched in my arms, freezing in the flood water that was now twinged with salt.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The sound of a diesel truck.

"Wherea..m"

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

"Honey, honey, I think he's waking up."

Something was licking at my face. Samantha, I realized. I reached forward to pet her.

Well, except that I didn't. My arms were strapped tight to my body. What the heck.

My eyes flickered open. "Otter," said Samantha cheerfully. My body was entirely cocooned in what looked to be blankets. Better yet, I was warm.

_Warm_.

I let it consume me. I was swathed in a cloak, in a blanket of fire... heh. It was like an orgasm all over my body.

But then. I remembered the Teddiursa, crumpled in my arms.

"Where am I?" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

"Honey! Honey, calm down!" cried an old lady in an acute Sinnohan accent. I suddenly realized that we were in a vehicle. I was sprawled out across the backseat with Samantha on my lump. The elderly woman sat in the passenger seat, with presumably her husband in the driver's.

"Y-Your Ottershore found our house. It was only a few hundred feet from where you were laying."

"Bill came over to find you. He put your Teddiursa - poor thing, what happened to it? - into one of your Pokeballs, and carried you to our home. I took you in and wrapped you in blankets and now we're taking you to Camprell. I'm sorry if we gave you a fright, sweetie. You were freezing."

"Oh," I said, taking that in. "Oh, um, thanks. Thanks a lot," as an afterthought, I added, "Where's my Phanpy?"

"Phanpy?" asked the lady. "Bill, did you..?"

"No," said a male's voice from the driver's seat, rufflely.

Immediately, I resorted to panicking.

"Oh my gosh... oh my gosh... I'm so sorry, I have to go back, thank you but..." I began, wiggling out of the blankets. "I mean, I can't just... Phanpy is my Pokemon..."

"Sweetie, did you check your Pokeball belt?"

I looked around frantically, and found the belt. I grabbed the sphere second to the most right, maximized it, and... oh. Ha ha. A small blue elephant formed in a burst of bright light, shivering, wet, but very much existent.

"Return," I said, absolutely relieved.

The trip went by surprisingly quickly. The rain eventually subsided. The old lady was quite talkative, and filled any quiet space up with chatter (although the man, though clearly very kind, said almost nothing the entire trip). The old couple was adorable.

My first sight of Cambrell town was stunning. The sun had just begun to rise, and the town was small, sparkling, and optimistic. Even at such an early hour, it teemed with life - the fields around it had farmers plowing away at their crops, and the small businesses were beginning to open. I had always heard that the cities with Gyms were amazing (being pumped full with tax money and all) but had never fully appreciated it until I was here, at one. My small town (which I had seldom ventured out of) couldn't hold a candle to it.

We finally arrived at a large, pink-domed building, definitely one of the gems of the town. I crawled of the truck, thanked the old couple profusely (who genially told me that it was no problem at all and it was nice to have company every once and a while and to call them if I ever came into the area and a lot of other things), grabbed my backpack, looked down at my waterlogged, mud-laden jeans, and went inside the institution.

I was greeted by a few trainers sitting on poofy pink couches (who had mysteriously got here before I did) and a pink haired lady wearing a pink apron coupled with a pink decor at a pink receptionist's desk. Yay.

Suddenly, I had a little flashback thingy and remembered why I was here. An apprehensive look overtook my face, and I slammed Teddiursa's Pokeball onto the desk. "Please... Please heal my Teddiursa," I pleaded with her.

She smiled, carelessly. "No problem." She took the Pokeball, and then went into a back room (through a pink door). A few moments later, I heard a scream. The heads of the trainers in the room turned.

"What did you do to this thing!" shrieked the nurse hysterically, tears escaping her eyes, as she came out of the back room. "It's dying, it's dying, it's dying, and it's in _pain_! What did you to it you little monster?"

"I-I found it like that," I said, flustered.

"You did not! You did not, you little liar!" screamed the nurse. "It's bones are extending! You gave it too many Potions, didn't you? _Didn't you?_"

"I. I," I began, overwhelm and with tears forming in my eyes, until I finally answered sadly, "Yes."

She sighed, loudly, composed herself, and pressed a button underneath her desk. "Dr. Mathenos, we need you immediately," she said calmly. She glared at me coldly, then went into the back room.

A few moments passed, and I realized what I had done. I didn't know I had done anything wrong! Overwhelm with guilt, I sat down on a seat to sulk.

All the other trainers left me alone. A few minutes later, a man in a labcoat came through the door, looking grave, and worried.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

"Well, thing's aren't looking great, especially now that he's become conscious" said Dr. Mathenos, lip twitching a bit. "Are you aware about how potions work, Jerwin?"

I shook my head.

"Well," he began. "Potions release certain chemicals that heal the Pokemon. Ordinarily, these are released naturally when the Pokemon faints. They only come out in small doses, to ensure that the Pokemon becomes fully healed.

"However, you are never supposed to inject a Pokemon with a potion while it is fainted. It says so on the syringe. The chemicals that heal the Pokemon are very concentrated in potions. While they are ordinarily very beneficial to the Pokemon, they can cause bad things to happen. If the bones were broken, as they were already in Teddiursa's case, they can start growing out in awkward angles, even damaging internal organs, or growing out of the skin. In this Pokemon's case, both are happening."

I made a chocking sound, halfway between a sob and a gasp.

"If it weren't for the old man and lady's idea, as you say, which was putting him inside the Pokeball, he probably wouldn't be alive right now. His clavicle is growing up threw his neck - it's already pierced through his windpipe, incidentally - and is heading directly towards his brain. If it hits, he's gone."

"Right now, he's stable inside his Pokeball. There's only one thing we can do to save him at this point, and that's an extremely risky surgery. Worse yet, is that we don't have any anesthetics to prevent him from feeling any pain. The potion chemicals, still in his body, fight them off as if they were intruders." He sighed, and took off his spectacles.

"Jerwin, that means that we are going to have to break, saw, and reset his bones, while he's still conscious."

I nodded.

"I don't blame you for this, Jerwin. You were trying to do your part as a humane human being." Dr. Mathenos said solemnly. "However, it was irresponsible for you to do it this way. Common sense could have averteted this whole ordeal. If you just had caught the Teddiursa in a Pokeball, without injecting it with unneeded medicine, everything would be great right now."

"Oh, and it obviously got in a battle before it was so seriously maimed, if you hadn't noticed. It's eyes were clawed out. It's going to be blind forever."

With that, Dr. Mathenos gave me a brief, kind look, and paced to the back room. I stared straight ahead, stunned at what my actions had cost the Pokemon.

A few minutes later, I could hear the screams and squeals of a Teddiursa being tortured. I knew that it was all my fault.

All my stupid, fucking fault.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\


	7. Life's Classroom

Chapter Six

Life's Classroom

I sat in one of the poofy couches in the Pokemon center, fiddling with my key chain, and staring out the large window at the bright, beautiful morning. I could feel Nurse Joy's eyes boring into the back of my head from the receptionist's desk. The over-the-top euphoria I was feeling just the day before now seemed remarkably childish.

The automatic door slid open and close quite a few times that morning, so when it did it yet again around ten, I didn't even bother to look who had walked in. They seemed to stand still for a moment, probably scanning the room. Then, they walked over to Nurse Joy and asked her to heal their Pokemon. She apparently obliged.

"My God, Jerwin," said a voice, right in my ear. "You're the most oblivious person I've ever met."

My head must have rotated 180 degrees. "Grace!" I yelled, surprise invading my melancholy mood. "I-I'm so happy to see you!"

She grinned. "You better be." She flung her backpack on the floor and then laid down next to me, legs on my lap.

"Have you seen Windy?" I asked.

"Nope. I texted her – she said she spent the night at the training camp and then is leaving today so as to miss the storm. She'll probably get here sometime tomorrow," answered Grace. "Oh, and I caught a Growlithe," she informed me proudly.

"Awesome," I said. We chatted for a few moments, and the superficial-ness of the conversation proved to be a nice anesthetic. Until, of course, she asked, "So why is that Nurse Joy so pissy?"

I sighed. Before I could respond, a crackling voice behind us thundered, "That Nurse Joy is so _pissy_ because your little friend here tortured and nearly murdered a Teddiursa. He comes in here and lies to me about what happened to it and then just sat there while it was screaming its eyes out." _Speak of the devil... _my mind solemnly thought.

_ ...And Grace will come._ "Don't take that tone with us," the teenage girl snapped, with an intensity that implied that she was frothing at the mouth. "Give me my Pokemon."

The Nurse Joy, face scarlet with rage, threw the spheres at Grace and stomped away into some back room. Grace, similarly, swiped up her backpack and my shirt collar. She dragged us into the sunlight.

"Bitch," she murmured. "What happened?" she asked me. "And don't give me some bullshit biased version."

I explained, and went through every horrific detail that I had forced the Teddiursa to go through.

"And then," I paused, taking a deep breath. "And then, after the surgery, they told it what had happened. It refused to talk to me. Now it has to go to some home for injured Pokemon because it's blind and it can't survive in the wild."

We sat down on the side of a humongous, elegant fountain in the center of town. Grace took a bite of the bagel she had bought from a street vender. She chewed it carefully, as if examining it for poison. And then, finally, she gave me the trademark Grace response.

"Oh, shut up, Jerwin. It's not your fault, and you know it. You were doing the right thing."

"But..." I began. How didn't she understand? "But I _destroyed_ it. It can't enjoy life in its old home anymore. I put it in excruciating pain. They always told us in Traveling Class that the first response to a seriously injured Pokemon is to put it in its Pokeball, which I didn't even think of."

She looked back and forth between her bagel and her small plastic cup of cream cheese, and then tossed the remainder of the bagel back into the fountain. Grace then proceeded to spoon the cream cheese into her mouth with her finger. "Did _you_ claw its eyes out, Jerwin?"

"Well, no, but-"

"And did you, purposely, make the Teddiursa suffer so much?"

"Grace, I don't think you-"

"Then awesome. Next time something like this happens, you know what to do," she stated blandly. "Now, are you going to keep being the conniption king, or are you going to scope out the Gym with me?"

Grace's ability to chop down logic never seemed so wonderful. And neither, I thought, did Camprell Town.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Tailow chirped. A lone Meowth darted under a wastebasket (to the disappointment of the four year old chasing it). People walked briskly, but not impatiently. I didn't know why Dad always talked about city life as if it was a venomous snake – to me, it was intriguing, and often entertaining.

"So why did you decide to come to Campbrell town?" I asked Grace randomly, as I was feeling strangely conversational.

She responded a bit too quickly, and for the first time I remember, she looked taken aback. "I, um, er. The gym leader here is a pushover."

I smiled a little. I wasn't _that_ oblivious.

After about a half an hour of watching the bustle and quirks of town life on Mahogany Street, we finally reached the gym. The yard was gorgeous – painted in every shade, from red to violet, with gently wafting flowers.

When Grace and I began to walk up the sidewalk leading to the building, a man passing on the street stopped us. "The place is closed down until they decide to rebuild it" he told us. "Apparently some kids went in there and ruined the place. Rose Finch, the gym leader here, set up shop in the park on Shakespeare Avenue, so if you're looking for a battle, you can find her there." He gave us some quick directions and was off.

We took a seat at a nearby bench and sighed. The scenery didn't quite make this entire trip worthwhile.

"Vandals, huh?" asked Grace through a sly smile. I took me a while to realize what she meant.

"Oh, no," I muttered. I wasn't going in there.

"Oh, yes," she laughed, with a large, irresistible smile, grabbing my wrist and standing up.

I very nearly refused. And yet, an odd excited feeling came swept through me at the thought of breaking the rules. My legs became jittery, and I felt sort of... _invincible_. Searching for justification to trump my better judgment, my mind echoed:

_"Do your best. Take some risks. Make some friends. This is your adventure."_

At this point, I was the one dragging Grace to the side of the building, strategically darting from bush to tree to avoid be seen by townsfolk walking by on the streets. "What's gotten into you?" she muttered sardonicly, surprised by my eagerness.

The side of the building, at first, looked unhelpful to our cause. "Now, how do we get in?" I muttered, not really expecting an answer. We paced along the wall, noticing nothing that looked particularly helpful. My sudden daring began to wean, until Grace noticed an already shattered window near the ground. It looked as if it could fit something teenager sized through.

We crouched down on the damp grass and peered through the hole. It was pitch dark and nothing was visible. Grace pulled out a small pocket flashlight from somewhere and shinded it in, revealing only a small layer of water on the floor of the building.

Grace got a bit of a concerned look on her face. "Actually, Jerwin, I don't think I'm going in. The window was open during the storm last night, and it's probably disgusting. It can't be safe."

I paused momentarily. If Grace didn't want to something like this, she obviously had a good reason. "Come on," I said, my thoughts not really attached to words, which were unlike me. "Are you scared?"

"Do you really think extortion is going to work on _me_?" she asked incredulously, appalled. "You can go in if you want, and I'll keep watch, but I'm staying here."

Satisfied, I took the flashlight she was offering and swung my legs in. My mind, stunned into silence by my actions, didn't make even an inkling of protest. I slid in and my sneakers landed with a splash on the floor.

_Well, wasn't that satisfying?_ asked the snarky part of my brain, regaining its footing. Another part suggested that I feel guilty for abandoning it for as long as I did, but I wasn't ready for such lectures, so I started investigating.

I shined the flashlight around, and began walking. A small _splick_ sound sounded every time I placed my foot forward, and water began to seep into my sneakers. Dim shapes made themselves evident – I recognized a line of chairs in the corner, and nearly tripped over a random metal pipe lying on the ground.

The beam of the light fell first upon the beautiful hardwood paneling of roses on the wall, and slowly slid up. Red markings appeared to be drawn on the wall, but didn't seem to make a pattern. Trying to get a broader view, I backed up.

Ah, there. They made words. I squinted very hard, trying both to read through the dim light and decipher the handwriting, which was very crude. _ 'All'_ it read.

'_All'_? I read on.

_'Gym'_.

OK. _'Gym'_. That made sense, considering this was one. Next word.

_'Leaders'_.

That made sense. Sure.

_'Shall'_. OK, so what shall all Gym Leaders do?

I got a little closer. The last word was particularly illegible.

Suddenly, my heart began racing. I stared at the wall, unable to tear my eyes away from it. I tripped, and my jeans became soaked through with water. I stumbled back to my feet and took a few breaths.

"Grace," I began. "Grace. I need you to come down here."

The beam of light that slightly lit the room became blocked as she stuck her head down. "Seriously, Jerwin, I'm not that gullible," she said.

"Please?" I asked. She seemed to notice the desperation in my voice, as she sighed very audibly and slipped down.

"Read that wall." I said, handing her the flashlight.

She threw me a weird expression and revealed the words.

"All," she began. "All Gym Leaders shall..."

The flashlight fell into the water and flickered out. In the dark, she finished the phrase.

"All Gym Leaders shall die."

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

A few minutes later, after a bit of difficulty, we were out in the bright sunshine of Camprell Town. The antics of the townspeople, which were entertaining just a bit earlier, now seemed oddly cartoonish.

Grace, after a bit of brief terror, wasn't too freaked out anymore. She excused her bit of fright as simply being surprised – we had been told that it was a group of rowdy teenagers that had broken in, after all, not a bunch of people who wished for death. "Besides, Gym Leaders are being threatened by extremist groups all the time," she explained. "Nobodies ever actually done anything, so there's nothing to worry about."

This was true – a protest was always on the news, by PETP (People for the Ethical Training of Pokemon) and other groups, although I didn't remember any of them threatening the lives of such publicly respected officials directly. This shock may just be a result of me living in a small town like I did. I wasn't city toughened like Grace, but nonetheless, even though I know there was no danger to me in particular, I was terrified. The macho me was a thing of the past, definitely.

The day passed. We never actually did end up going to the park on Shakespeare Avenue, but we didn't want to go back to the Pokemon center, so we decided to sight see, as the general area where we were in was a tourist utopia. I was still slightly out of it, until Grace backhanded me nonchalantly and told me that she was leaving if I was going to be boring.

We at lunch outside at a small Italian place and released our Pokemon, who seemed happy to smell the fresh air. Grace's Poochyena, Fang, seemed partial to sitting defensively at Grace's feet, but didn't mind when I scratched behind his ears. Samantha climbed onto my lap (hey, my jeans were wet anyway,) when Phanpy and Growlithe began playing some game where they tackled and bit each other a lot. Grace looked at her fire Pokemon proudly and talked about how hard she worked to defeat her three brothers to catch this one.

Afterward, we tried on some very large hats (the top hat was nice, Grace said, but didn't match my eyes) and some touristy t-shirts with very terrible puns on them. Then we bought two vanilla ice cream cones and some treats for our Pokemon, and I realized that I had actually resisted from purchasing everything I saw which made me proud.

Then, Grace yanked a Pokedex out of her pocket. "I got a ride from my aunt," read Grace, "I'm at the Pokemon center." When I gave her a perplexed look, she stated, "It's from Windy."

We set off, back to the pink-domed building. A rainbow-haired girl was standing in front of the doors, right next to a boy that looked a few years younger than us. They were chatting as we approached them.

"But Windy," said the boy impatiently, his voice very recognizable, "I really don't want to. I mean, I'm sorry, I know it meant a lot to you, but I just really want to do this one thing by myself. Now come on, please don't-"

The boy turned as he saw Grace and I standing before him. His face was soft, his hair dirty blond and curly, much like a friendly neighborhood teenager we all knew and loved. "Hello," he said.

Windy noticed us, wiped something off her cheek, and breathed, "Grace, Jerwin," before pulling us into a hug. "T-This is my little brother, Collin."

"It's nice to meet you," said Collin as he scratched the back of his head.

"Hi," said Grace and I simultaneously.

"Actually, I was just going, sorry," said Collin. "I'll see you guy's later, I guess. Love you, Windy." He hugged her and shot off. Windy gave him a longing look, but composed herself and turned to us.

"What's up?" asked Grace,

"Nothing, it's nice to see you guys," she evaded poorly. "Like I was saying, my aunt who lives nearby offered to give me a ride. I thought it sort of cheapened the whole deal, but I wanted to see all of you, so I accepted."

Grace didn't press the matter further, but it was obvious something was troubling Windy, and as good as she was at picking out minute details to deduce other people, she was terrible at hiding her own. At first she was ridiculously talkative, and later she was eerily quiet. When I told everyone that I was going to rent a cot at the Pokemon center at sunset (because I got pretty much no sleep the previous night), she immediately said she was tired to and offered to help me confront Nurse Joy.

When I got to the boy's room, (which was entirely empty), I shoved my backpack under the bed and climbed under the covers. I buried my head in the darkness and forced myself to think of nothing.

How much drama could occur in one day? A lot, it seemed.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\


End file.
